Guile would Gild a True Intent Dear, if I with guile would gild a true intent, Heaping flatteries that in heart were never meant: Easily could I then obtain What now in vain I force; Truth yet holds the better course. Love forbid that through dissembling I should thrive, Or in praising you myself of truth deprive! Let not your high thoughts debase A simple truth in me: Great is Beauty's grace, Truth is yet as fair as she! Praise is but the wind of pride, if it ex ceeds; Wealth, prized in itself, no outward value needs. DEAR, IF I WITH GUILE Fair you are, and passing fair; You know it, and 'tis true: Yet let none despair But to find as fair as you. Inflaming Her fair inflaming eyes, Chief authors of my cares, Her lips with kisses rich, And words of fair delight, I fairly did beseech, To pity my sad plight: But a voice from them brake forth, Then to her hands I fled, That can give heart and all; To them I long did plead, And loud for pity call: But, alas, they put me off, With a touch worse than a scoff. HER FAIR INFLAMING EYES So back I straight returned, Then down my prayers made way But her angry feet, thus moved, Yet fled they not so fast, Still did I after haste, Still was I left behind; Till I found 'twas to no end (B 325) 449 2 G Lesbia, let us My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love; And though the sager sort our deeds reprove, Let us not weigh them: heaven's great lamps do dive Into their west, and straight again revive: But soon as once set is our little light, Then must we sleep one ever - during night. If all would lead their lives in love like me, Then bloody swords and armour should not be; No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleeps should move, Unless alarm came from the camp of love: But fools do live, and waste their little light, And seek with pain their ever - during night. |