The fly, that buzzeth round about the flame,

Knows not, poor soul, she gets her death thereby ;
I see my death, and seeing, seek the same,

And seeking, find, and finding, choose to die.
That when thy looks my life have slain,
Thy looks may give me life again.

Turn then to me those sparkling eyes of thine, And with their fiery glances pierce my heart; Quench not my light, lest I in darkness pine; Strike deep and spare not, pleasant is the smart. So by thy looks my life be spilt,

Kill me as often as thou wilt.

ODE II.

THE MORE FAVOUR HE OBTAINS, THE MORE
HE DESIRES.

As soon may water wipe me dry,

And fire my heat allay,

As with favour of your eye

you

Make hot desire decay.

The more I have,

The more I crave;

The more I crave, the more desire,

As piles of wood increase the fire.

The senseless stone that from on high
Descends to earth below,

With greater haste itself doth ply,
The less it hath to go;

So feels desire

Increase of fire,

That still with greater force doth burn,
"Till all into itself it turn.

The greater favour you bestow,

The sweeter my delight;

And by delight desire doth grow,
And growing gathers might.
The less remains,

The more my pains,

To see myself so near the brink,
And yet my fill I cannot drink.

LOVE THE ONLY PRICE OF LOVE.

THE fairest pearls that Northern seas do breed,
For precious stones from Eastern coasts are sold;
Nought yields the earth that from exchange is freed,
Gold values all, and all things value gold.

Where goodness wants an equal change to make,
There greatness serves, or number place doth take.

No mortal thing can bear so high a price,
But that with mortal thing it may be bought;
The corn of Sicil' buys the Western spice;
French wine of us, of them our cloth is sought.
No pearls, no gold, no stones, no corn, no spice,
No cloth, no wine, of Love can pay
the price.

What thing is Love, which nought can countervail ?
Nought save itself, ev'n such a thing is Love.
All worldly wealth in worth as far doth fail,
As lowest earth doth yield to heav'n above.
Divine is Love, and scorneth worldly pelf,

And can be bought with nothing, but with self.

Such is the price my loving heart would pay;
Such is the pay thy love doth claim as due.
Thy due is love, which I, poor I, assay,
In vain assay to 'quite with friendship true :
True is my love, and true shall ever be,
And truest love is far too base for thee.

Love but thyself, and love thyself alone,
For save thyself, none can thy love requite:
All mine thou hast, but all as good as none,
My small desert must take a lower flight.

Yet if thou wilt vouchsafe my heart such bliss,
Accept it for thy prisoner as it is.

• it.edit. 1621.

HIS HEART ARRAIGNED OF THEFT, AND ACQUITTED.

My heart was found within my lady's breast,
Close couch'd for fear that no man might him see,

On whom suspect did serve a straight arrest,

And felon-like he must arraigned be;

What could he mean so closely there to stay,
But by deceit to steal her heart away?

The bench was set, the prisoner forth was brought,
My mistress' self chief judge to hear the cause:
Th' indictment read, by which his blood was sought,
That he, poor heart, by stealth had broke the laws;
His plea was such as each man might descry;
For grace and truth were read in neither eye.

Yet forc'd to speak, his farther plea was this,
That sore pursu'd by me that sought his blood,
Because so oft his presence I did miss,
Whilst as he said, he labour'd for my good:

He, void of help to have his harms redrest,
Took sanctuary in her sacred breast.

The gentle Judge that saw his true intent,
And that his cause did touch her honour near,

P Either. edit. 1602.

q From.-edit. 1621.

Since he from me to hér for succour went:

r

That truth might reign, where rigour did appear, Gave sentence thus: that if he there would 'bide, That place was made, a guiltless heart to hide.

MADRIGAL I.

THINE eyes so bright

Bereft my sight,

When first I view'd thy face;

So now my light

Is turn'd to night,

I stray from place to place.

Then guide me of thy kindness,
So shall I bless my blindness.

PHALEUCIACK I.

TIME nor place did I want, what held me tongue-tied?
What charms, what magical abused altars?

Wherefore wish'd I so oft that hour unhappy,
When with freedom I might recount my torments,

r As in the text in edit. 1621, but ruth in each preceding edition.