To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, And baffled, get up and begin again,—

So the chase takes up one's life, that's all. While, look but once from your farthest bound At me so deep in the dust and dark,

No sooner the old hope goes to the ground
Than a new one, straight to the self-same mark
I shape me-

Ever

Removed!

Robert Browning.

LI.

LOVE'S PETITION.

TO LOVE LITTLE, BUT LONG.

LOVE me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.
Love that is too hot and strong
Burneth soon to waste.
Still I would not have thee cold,
Not too backward or too bold;
Love that lasteth till 't is old
Fadeth not in haste.

If thou lovest me too much,
It will not prove as true as touch;
Love me little, more than such,
For I fear the end.

I am with little well content,
And a little from thee sent

Is enough, with true intent,
To be steadfast friend.

Say thou lov'st me while thou live,
I to thee my love will give,
Never dreaming to deceive

While that life endures:

Nay, and after death, in sooth,
I to thee will keep my truth,

As now, when in my May of youth.
This my love assures.

Constant love is moderate ever,
And it will through life persever;
Give me that, with true endeavour
I will it restore.

A suit of durance let it be,
For all weathers; that for me,
For the land or for the sea,
Lasting evermore.

Winter's cold or summer's heat,
Autumn's tempests on it beat,
I can never know defeat,

Never can rebel.

Such the love that I would gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give, or woo in vain ;
So to thee farewell.

Anonymous,

LII.

LOVE'S PETITION.

DIAPHENIA.

DIAPHENIA like the daffadowndilly,

White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee!

I do love thee as my lambs
Are beloved of their dams;

How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.

Diaphenia like the spreading roses,

That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,

Fair sweet, how I do love thee!

I do love thee as each flower

Loves the sun's life-giving power;

For dead, thy breath to life might move me.

Diaphenia like to all things blessèd
When all thy praises are expressèd,
Dear joy, how I do love thee !

As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king;

Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!

Henry Constable.

LIII.

LOVE'S PETITION.

SAY NAY! SAY NAY!

AND wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay! for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame.
And wilt thou leave me thus !
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among:
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,

That hath given thee my heart

Never for to depart

Neither for pain nor smart :

And wilt thou leave me thus?

Say nay! say nay !

And wilt thou leave me thus,

And have no more pity

Of him that loveth thee?

Alas! thy cruelty!

And wilt thou leave me thus?

Say nay! say nay!

Sir Thomas Wyatt.

LIV.

LOVE'S PETITION.

NOT TOO ANGRY, NOR TOO KIND.

OH, do not wanton with those eyes,
Lest I be sick with seeing;

Nor cast them down, but let them rise,
Lest shame destroy their being.

Oh, be not angry with those fires,
For then their threats will kill me!
Nor look too kind on my desires,
For then my hopes would spill me.

Oh, do not steep them in thy tears,
For so will sorrow slay me;

Nor spread them as distraught with fears;

Mine own enough betray me.

LV.

Ben Jonson.

LOVE'S PETITION.

FORGET NOT YET!

FORGET not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet!

Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service none tell can;
Forget not yet!

Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,

The painful patience in delays,

Forget not yet!

Forget not! O, forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is
The mind that never meant amiss-
Forget not yet!

Forget not then thine own approved
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved—
Forget not this!

LVI.

Sir Thomas Wyatt.

LOVE'S PETITION.

TRUE MAN, FAIR WOMAN.

THERE is none, O, none but you,
Who from me estrange the sight,
Whom mine eyes affect to view,

And chained ears hear with delight.

Others' beauties others move:

In you I all the graces find; Such are the effects of love,

To make them happy that are kind.

Women in frail beauty trust;
Only seem you kind to me!

Still be truly kind and just,

For that can't dissembled be.

Dear, afford me, then, your sight!

That, surveying all your looks,

Endless volumes I may write,

And fill the world with envied books.

Which, when after ages view,

All shall wonder and despair,—

Women, to find a man so true,
And men, a woman half so fair.

Robert, Earl of Essex.