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Ah me! but yet thou might'ft my seat forbear,
And chide thy beauty and thy ftraying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there,
Where thou art forc'd to break a twofold truth:
Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,

Thine by thy beauty being false to me.
That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I lov'd her dearly;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye,
Thou doft love her, because thou know'st I love her;
And for


sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering my friend, for my fake, to approve her,
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss :
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my fake lay on me this cross.

But here's the joy, my friend and I are one,
Sweet flattery, then she loves but me alone,

Foolis Disdain.

Venus with Adonis fitting 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.

Ancient Antipathy.

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.
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.

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Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,
A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly;
A fower that dies, when first it ’gins to bud:
A brittle glass, that's broken presently.

A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Loft, faded, broken, dead within an hour,

And as goods loft, are seld' or never found;
As faded glofs 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.

Melancholy Thoughts.

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance fhould 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 flow,

But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
The other two, fight air, and purging fire,
Are both with thee, where-ever I abide ;
The first my thought, the other my defire;
These present, absent, with swift motion slide,
For when these quicker elements are gone,
In tender embafly 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 now 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.

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,
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have,
For why? Thou lefts me nothing in thy will;

yet thou lefts me more than I did crave : For why? I craved nothing of thee ftill:

O yes (dear friend) I pardon crave of thee,
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me,

Love's Relief
Full many a glorious morning have I seen,

"Shakspeare Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, aluny by Kifling with golden face the meadows green ;

metaphos Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchymy;

and figures Anon permit the baseft clouds to ride,

involves in With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide,

the thing Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.

conoiduld Even so my sun one early morn did shine,

a uninos With all triumphant fplendor on my brow;

hash and But out, alack! he was but one hour mine,

posibles The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;

efpeinences Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun he mingle

[staineth. larth, ha Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,

and un And make me travel forth without my cloke,

gim atau to everything, and at the same time that he inspires human pelings, adds a

rquity to human nature


in his images itself

To let base clouds o'ertake me in my 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 phyfick 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 filver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, lalving thy amiss,
Excusing their fins more than their fins are :
For to my sensual fault I bring incense,
Thy adverfe party is thy advocate;
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commerce,
Such civil war is in my love and hate,

That I an acceffary needs must be
To that sweet thief which sorely robs from me.


Let me confess, that we two must be twain,
Altho' our undivided loves are one:
So fhall those blots, that do with me remain
Without thy help, by me be borne alone.

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