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But oh! what banquet wert thou to the tastes.
Being nurse and feeder of the other four !
Would they not wish the feast should ever last,
And bid fufpicion double-lock the door ;
Lest jealousy, that four unwelcome guest,
Should by his stealing in disturb the feasti
Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,
Which to his speech did honey passage yield ;
Like a red morn, that ever yet betoken'd,
Wreck to the seamen, tempest to the field,
Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds,
Guft and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
This ill presage advisedly she marketh,
Ev'n as the wind is hush'd before it raineth,
Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh,
Or as the berry breaks before it staineth ;.
Or like the deadly bullet of a gung.
His meaning struck her, ere his words begun.
And at his look she flatly falleth down;
For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth :-
A smile recures the wounding of a frown,
But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth !
The filly boy believing she is dead,
Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it reda
And in amaze brake off his late intenti
For sharply he did think to reprehend her,
Which cunning love did wittily prevent,
Fair tall the wit; that can so well defend her :-
For on the grass fhe lies, as she were slain,
Till his breath breathed life in her again.
He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard,
He chafes her lips, a thousand ways he seeks
To mend the hurt, that his unkindness marr’d;
He kifles her, and she, by her good will;
Would never rise, so he will kiss her still:
The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day,
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth ;
Like the fair fun, when in his fresh array,
He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth ::
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumin'd with her eye.
Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd,
As if from thence they borrow'd all their shine :
Were never four such lamps together mix'd,
Had not his clouded, with his brows repine.
But hers, which thro’the crystal tears gave light,
Shone like the moon, in water seen by night.
O! where am I! (quoth she) in earth, or heaven !
Or in the ocean drench'd or in the fire!
What hour is this? or morn, or weary even?
Do I delight to die? or life defire?
But now I liv’d, and life was death's annoy ::
But now. I dy'd, and death was lively joy.
O! thou didft kill me, kill me once again;
Thy eyes, shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine
Has taught them scornful tricks, and such disdainy.
That they have murder'd this poor heart of mine ;
And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen,
But for thy piteous lips no more had seen.
Long may they kiss each other for this cure !
Oh never let their crimson liveries wear!
And as they laft, their verdure still endure,
To drive infection from the dangerous year!
That the star-gazers having writ on death,
May say, the plague is banith’d by thy breath.
Pure lips ! sweet seals ! in my soft lips imprinted,
What bargains may I make still to be sealing ?
To fell myself, I can be well contented,
So thou wilt buy and pay, and use good dealing :
Which purchase if thou make, for fear of lips,
Set thy seal manual on my wax-red lips.
A thousand kisses buys my heart from me,
And pay them at thy leisure one by one.
What is ten hundred kisses unto thee?
Are they not quickly told, and quickly gone ?
Say for non-payment that the debt should double,
Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?
Fair queen (quoth he) if any love you owe me;
Measure my Itrangeness with my unripe years,
Before I know myself, reek not to know me.
No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears ;
The mellow plumb doth fall, the green sticks fat,
Or being early pluck'd, is four to taste.
Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait;
His day's hot talk hath ended in the west!
The owl (night's herald) shrieks, 'tis very late,
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest :
The cole-black clouds, that shadow heaven's light,
Do summon us to part, and bid good-night..
Now let me say good-night, and so say your:
If you will say so, you shall have a kiss.
Good-night (quoth she) and ere he says adieu,
The honey fee of parting tendred is.
Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace,
Incorporate then they seem, face grows to face.
Till breathless he disjoin'd, and backward drew .
The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth,
Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew,
Whereon tkey surfeit, yet complain on drowth :
He with her plenty preis’d, the faint with dearth,
Their lips together glu’d, fall to the earth.
Now quick desire hath caught her yielding prey,
And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth;
Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey,
Paying what ranfom the insulter willeth:
Whose vulture thought doth pitch the prize fo high
That she will draw his lips rich treasure dry,
And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
With blindfold fury she begins to forage ;
Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil,
And careless lust stirs up a desperate courau::
Planting oblivion, beating reason back;
Forgetting shame's pure blush, and honour's wrack.
Hot, faint, and weary with her hard embracing,
Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much handling,
Or as the fieet-foot roe, that's tir'd with chaling,
Or like the froward infant ftillid with dandling ;
He now obeys, and now no more reĝfterh,
While she takes all she can, not all she litteth.
What wax fo frozen, but diffolves with temp'ring? And yields at last to every light impression ?
Things out of hope are compass'd oft with vent'ring, "Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission.
Affection faints not, like a pale-fac'd coward,
But then wooes best, when most his choice is frow.
When he did frown, O had she then gave over !
Such nectar from his lips she had not fuck’d:
Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
What tho' the rose have pricks? yet it is pluck’d:
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
Yet love breaks thro', and picks them all at last.
For pity now she can no more detain him;
The poor fool prays her that he may depart.
She is resolv'd no longer to restrain him,
Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart;
The which by Cupid's bow she doth protest,
He carries thence engaged in his breast.
Sweet boy, she says, this night I'll waste in sorrow,
For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch.
Tell me, love's master, shall we meet to-morrow?
Say, shall we, shall we, wilt thou make the match?
He tells her no : to-morrow he intends
To hunt the boar, with certain of his friends.
The boar! (quoth she) whereat a sudden pale,
Like lawn being spread upon the blushing role,
Ulurps her cheeks ; she trembles at his tale,
And on his neck her yoking arms she throws :
She sinketh down, still hanging on his neck,
He on her belly falls, she on her back.