The very eye betrays our inward fmart; Love of himfelf left there a part, When thorough it he paft into the heart. Or if by chance the face betray not it, But keep the fecret wifely, yet, Like drunkenness, into the tongue 'twill get. Study or action others may embrace; Which me, weak mortal! move; Nor is your bafy-feriousness Lefs trifling than my love: The wifeft king, who from his facred breaft LOOKING ON, AND DISCOURSING WITH, HIS MISTRESS. HESE full two hours now have I gazing been, To look on heaven with mighty gulfs between Ah wretch! I feem to touch her now; but oh, What boundless fpaces do us part! G% MY FATE. O bid the needle his dear North forfake, Go bid the ftones a journey upwards make; The faft-link'd chain of everlafting Fate Does nothing tie more strong than me to you; Fortune, and friends, and all earth's empty show, My fixt love hangs not on your love or hate, My lowness, and her high defert: But thefe might conquerable prove; Nothing does me fo far remove, As her hard foul's averfion from my love. So travellers, that lofe their way by night, If from afar they chance t'efpy Th' uncertain glimmerings of a taper's light, Take flattering hopes, and think it nigh; Till, wearied with the fruitless pain, They fit them down, and weep in vain, And there in darkness and defpair remain. RESOLVED TO LOVE. I WONDER what the grave and wife Think of all us that love; Whether our pretty fooleries Their mirth or anger move; They understand not breath that words does want; Our fighs to them are infignificant. One of them faw me, th' other day, Touch the dear hand which I admire; My foul was melting ftrait away, This filly wife-man, who pretends to know, Saw me with eyes all watery come; But thought fome smoke was in the room: For God's fake keep your arts from me, VOL. II. But will be fill the fame, whate'er you do : You cannot kill my love with your disdain; Wound it you may, and make it live in pain. Me, mine example, let the Stoics ufe, Their fad and cruel doctrine to maintain; Let all predeftinators me produce, Who ftruggle with eternal bonds in vain : This fire I'm born to--but 'tis fhe met tell, Whether 't be beams of heaven or flames of hell. You, who men's fortunes in their faces read, To find out mine, look not, alas! on me; If thou find there kind and propitious rays, Is writ in heaven; but oh, my heaven is there. What can men learn from ftars they scarce can fee? Two great lights rule the world, and her two me. IT THE HEART-BREAKING. T gave a pitcous groan, and so it broke; I thought that this fome remedy might prove; And now, alas! each little broken part Lives with that torment which the whole did kill. L Even fo rude armics, when the field they quit, And into feveral quarters get; How many Loves reign in my bofom now! TH HOU 'adft to my foul no title or pretence; Till I had given myself to thee; But thou haft kept me flave and prisoner since. Well, fince fo infolent thou 'rt grown, Fond tyrant! I'll depofe thee from thy throne; Such outrages must not admitted be In an elective monarchy. Part of my heart hy gift did to thee fall; The public miferies, and my private fate, Since first mine eyes I gave to you. Thou all my joys and all my hopes doft claim; Thou rageft like a fire in me, As men in hell are from difeafes free, Alas, alas! I hope in vain My conquer'd foul from out thine hands to gain; Since all the natives there thou 'aft overthrown, And planted garrifons of thine own. MAIDENHEAD. T'attend the weakness of our birth? Slight outward curtain to the nuptial bed! Thou cafe to buildings not yet finished! Who, like the centre of the earth, A thing God thought for mankind fo unfit, Art always fcorch'd with hot defires, Like a clofe conjurer in his cell, And fear'st the day's difcovering eye! No wonder 'tis at all that thou fhould'ft be Such tedious and unpleafant company, Who liv ft fo melancholily! Thou thing of fubtile, flippery kind, Although I think thou never found wilt be, Yet things well worth his toil he gains; Them only Fame the truly valiant calls, IMPOSSIBILITIES. MPOSSIBILITIES! oh no, there's none; True lovers oft by Fortune are envied; Oft earth and hell against them strive; And a good end at laft docs give: As ftars (not powerful elfe) when they conjoin, HOU worst eftate ev'n of the fex that's So thy heart in conjunction with mine THOR worst; Therefore by Nature made at first Shall our own fortunes regulate; And to our ftars themselves prefcribe a fate. 'Twould grieve me much to find fome bold ro mance, That should two kind examples fhew, Which before us in wonders did advance; Not that I thought that story true, But none fhould Fancy more, than I would Do. Through fpite of our worst enemies, thy friends; As cafy fhall my paffage be, As was the amorous youth's o'er Helle's fea : Such feas betwixt us cafily conquer'd are; CUE SILENCE. URSE on this tongue, that has my heart betray'd, And his great fecret open laid! For, of all perfons, chiefly fhe Since 'tis a thing might dangerous grow, Since 'tis for me to lefe my life more fit, Ah! never more fhall thy unwilling ear Difcourfe and talk awake does keep That in my breast does reign; No 'twill ne'er heal; my love will never die, Though it should speechlefs lie. As my love can his courfe, Unless it join and mix with thee: If any end or fop of it be found, We know the flood runs ftill, though under ground. I thought, I'll fwear, an handíome lye But now I fuffer an arreft, Darts, and wounds, and flaine, and heat, In things where fancy much does reign, 'Tis dangerous too cunningly to feign; The play at laft a truth does grow, And Cuftom into Nature go: By this curft art of begging I became Lame, with counterfeiting lame. My lines of amorous defire I wrote to kindle and blow others' fire; My fancy promis'd from the fight: But now, by Love, the mighty Phalaris, I, My burning Bull the firft do try. Love, thou'rt a devil, if I may call thee one; For fure in me thy name is Legion. Colour, or fhape, good limbs, or face, Goodnefs, or wit, in all I find; In motion or in fpeech a grace; If all fail, yet 'tis woman-kind; And I'm fo weak, the piftol need not be Double or treble charg d to murder me, If tall, the name of proper flays; If fair, fhe's pleafant as the light; If black, what lover loves not night? To me; if crooked, 'tis his bow: Juft half as large as Charity My richly-landed Love's become; Him, who loves always one, why should they call, More conftant than the man loves always all? Thus with unwearied wings I flee Through all Love's gardens and his fields; And, like the wife, induftrious bee, No weed but honey to me yields! Honey still spent this diligence ftill fupplies, Though I return not home with laden thighs. My foul at first indeed did prove Of pretty ftrength against a dart, Till I this habit got of love; But my confun'd and wafted heart, Once burnt to tinder with a strong defire. Since that, by every fpark is fet on fire. THE CONSTANT. REAT and wife conqueror, who, where'er Who canft defend as well as get, And never hadft one quarter beat-up yet; Now thou art in, thou ne'er wilt part With one inch of my vanquifh'd heart; For, fince thou took't it by affault from me, 'Tis garrifon'd fo ftrong with thoughts of thee, It fears no beauteous enemy. Had thy charming ftrength been lefs, I 'ad ferv'd ere this an hundred niftreffes: Clofe, narrow chain, yet foft and kind Which does not force, but guide our liberty! WIT 7ITH more than Jewish reverence as yet Do I the facred name conceal; When, ye kind ftars, ah when will it be fit This gentle mystery to reveal? So bold as yet no verfe of mine has been, Nor, till the happy nuptial Mufe be feen, Reft, mighty name! till then; for thou must be Then all the fields and woods fhall with it ring; Then all the birds in feveral notes shall fing, Then every wind the found fhall upwards bear, Then fhall thy name through all my verfe be fpread, Thick as the flowers in meadows lie, And, when in future times they fhall be read (As fure, I think, they will not die) If any critic doubt that they be mine, To represent thee by; Adam (God's nomenclator) could not frame WEEPING. EE where he fits, and in what comely wile SEE Drops tears more fair than others' eyes! Ah, charming maid! let not ill-fortune fee Th' attire thy forrow wears, Nor know the beauty of thy tears; For fhe'll ftill come to drefs herfelf in thee. As ftars reflect on waters, fo I fpy In every drop, methinks, her eye. The baby, which lives there, and always plays Like a Narciffus does appear, Ne'er yet did I behold fo glorious weather, Melt not, to feed that beautcous ftream below! That the weeps tears fo wondrous cold, So cold, that I admire they fall not hail. DISCRETION. DISCREET! what means this word difcreet? A curfe on all difcretion! This barbarous term you will not meet Jointure, portion, gold, eftate, Houfes, houfehold-ftuff, or land, (The low conveniencies of Fate) Are Greek no lovers underftand. Believe me, beautecus one! when love Enters into a breast, The two first things it does remove Are friends and intereft. Paflion's half blind, nor can endure The careful, fcrupulous eyes; Or else I could not love, I'm fure, One who in love were wife. Men, in fuch tempefts toft about, Will, without grief or pain, Caft all their goods and riches out, Themfelves their port to gain. As well might martyrs, who do chocfe That facred death to take, Mourn for the cloaths which they must lose, When they're bound naked to the ftake. THE WAITING-MAID. "HY Maid! ah! find fome nobler theme Whercon thy doubts to place; Nor by a low fufpect blafpheme Alas! fhe makes thee fhine fo fair, So exquifitely bright, That her dim lamp muft disappear Three hours each morn in dreffing thee And make that beauty tyranny, That's elfe a civil government. 'Tis like the poisoning of a dart 'Tis not their beauty' or face, But their high office and their place. COUNSEL. H! what advice can I receive! A Ne, fatisfy me firft; For who would phyfic-potions give A little puff of breath, we find, Small fires can quench and kill; But, when they're great, the adverfe wind Does make them greater still. Now whilft you fpeak, it moves me much, Alas! th' effect muft necds be fuch THE SEPARATION. ASK me not what my love fhall do or be (Love, which is foul to body, and foul of When I am feparated from thee; What after death the foul will do; "Twill laft, I'm fure, and that is all we know.' The thing call'd foul will never stir nor move, Sad troubled ghofts about their graves do ftray. I THE TREE. CHOSE the flourishing'ft tree in all the park, I cut my love into his gentle bark, And in three days, behold! 'tis dead": My very written flames fo violent be, They've burnt and wither'd up the tree. How fhould I live myself, whofe heart is found Deeply graven every where With the large history of many a wound, Larger than thy trunk can bear? With art as ftrange as Homer in the nut, Love in my heart has volumes put. What a few words from thy rich stock did take As a ftrong poifon with one drop does make Love (I fee now) a kind of witchcraft is, Or characters could ne'er do this. Pardon, ye birds and nymphs, who lov'd this fhade; And pardon me, thou gentle tree; I thought her name would thee have happy made, And bleffed omens hop'd from thee; "Notes of my love, thrive here," faid I," and |