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VENUS with ADONIS sitting by her,
Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him:
She told the youngling how god MARS did try her,
And as he fell to her, she fell to him.
Even thus (quoth she) the warlike god embrac'd me,
And then she clipt ADONIS in her arms:
Even thus (quoth she) the warlike god unlac'd me,
As if the boy should use like loving charms.
Even thus (quoth she) he seized on my lips ;
And with her lips on his did act the seizure :
And as she fetched breath away he skips,
And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.
Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
To kiss and clip me till I run away.
CRABBED age and youth cannot live together;
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
• Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
BEAUTY'S VALUATION.-MELANCHOLY THOUGHTS.
Age I do abhor thee, youth I do adore thee;
O! my love, my love is young:
Age I do defy thee, O ! sweet shepherd hie thee;
For, methinks thou stay'st too long.
BEAUTY is but a vain and doubtful good,
A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glass, that's broken presently.
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flow'r,
Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
And as goods lost, are seld' or never found;
As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh ;
As flowers dead, lie withered on the ground;
As broken glass, no cement can redress :
So beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost.
IF the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then, despite of space, I would be brought
To limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then altho' my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth remov'd from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But ah! thought kills me, that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone;
But that so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements so slow,
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
The other two, slight air, and purging fire,
Are both with thee, where-ever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire;
These present, absent, with swift motion slide.
For when these quicker elements are gone,
In tender embassy of love to thee,
My life being made of four, with two alone
Sinks down to death, opprest with melancholy
Until life's composition be recured,
By those swift messengers return'd from thee,
Who even but know come back again assured
Of their fair health, recounting it to me,
This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
I send them back again, and strait grow sad.
LOVE'S LOSS.--LOVE'S RELIEF.
SWEET rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon faded, Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring:
Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded,
Fair creature kill'd too soon by death's sharp sting;
Like a green plumb, that hangs upon a tree,
And falls (thro' wind) before the fall should be.
for thee, and yet no cause I have,
For why? Thou left'st me nothing in thy will;
And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave:
For why? I craved nothing of thee still:
O yes (dear friend) I pardon crave of thee,
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.
FULL many a glorious morning have I seen,
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green;
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchymy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out, alack! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no wit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun stain-
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'ertake me in the way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that thro' the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face;
For no man well of such a salve can speak,
That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief,
Tho' thou repent, yet I have still the cross;
Th' offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him, that beareth strong offences cross.
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done,
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud,