Just in the nick the cook knock'd thrice, And all the waiters in a trice
His summons did obey;
Each servingman with dish in hand,
March'd boldly up like our train'd-band,
Presented, and away.
When all the meat was on the table,
What man of knife, or teeth, was able
To stay to be intreated?
And this the very reason was,
Before the parson could say grace,
The company was seated.
Now hats fly off, and youths carouse;
Healths first go round, and then the house,
The bride's came thick and thick;
And when 'twas nam'd another's health,
Perhaps he made it hers by stealth.
(And who could help it, Dick?)
O'th' suddain up they rise and dance;
Then sit again, and sigh, and glance :
Then dance again, and kiss:
Thus sev'ral ways the time did pass,
Till ev'ry woman wish'd her place,
And ev'ry man wish'd his.
By this time all were stol'n aside
To counsel and undress the bride;
But that he must not know:
But yet 'twas thought he guest her mind,
And did not mean to stay behind
Above an hour or so.
When in he came (Dick) there she lay
Like new fal'n snow melting away,
('Twas time, I trow to part :)
Kisses were now the only stay,
Which soon she gave, as who would say,
Good boy! with all my heart.
But just as Heav'ns would have to cross it,
In came the bride-maids with the posset:
The bridegroom eat in spight;
For had he left the women to't
It would have cost two hours to do't,
Which were too much that night.
At length the candle's out; and now
All that they had not done, they do!
What that is, who can tell?
But I believe it was no more
Than thou and I have done before
With Bridget, and with Nell.
My dearest rival, least our love Should with excentric motion move, Before it learn to go astray, We'll teach and set it in a way, And such directions give unto't, That it shall never wander foot. Know first then, we will serve as true For one poor smile, as we would do If we had what our higher flame, Or our vainer wish, could frame. Impossible shall be our hope; And love shall only have his scope To join with fancy now and then, And think, what reason would condemn:
Had the three goddesses been just as fair,
It had not been so easily decided,
And sure the apple must have been divided :
It must, it must; he's impudent, dares say
Which is the handsomer, till one's away.
And it was necessary it should be so ;
Wise Nature did foresee it, and did know
When she had fram'd the eldest, that each heart
Must at the first sight feel the blind god's dart:
And sure as can be, had she made but one,
No plague had been more sure destruction;
For we had lik'd, lov'd, burut to ashes too,
In half the time that we are choosing now:
Variety, and equal objects, make
The busie eye still doubtful which to take;
This lip, this hand, this foot, this eye, this face,
The other's body, gesture, or her grace:
And whilst we thus dispute which of the two,
We unresolv'd go out, and nothing do.
He sure is happy'st that has hopes of either,
Next him is he that sees them both together.
Now we have taught our love to know
That it must creep where't cannot go,
And be for once content to live,
Since here it cannot have to thrive ;
It will not be amiss t' enquire
What fuel should maintain this fire:
For fires do cither flame too high,
Or where they cannot flame, they die,
First then (ny half but better heart)
Know this must wholly be her part;
(For thou and I, like clocks, are wound
Up to the height, and must move round)
She then, by still denying what
We fondly crave, shall such a rate
Set on each trifle, that a kiss
Shall come to be the utmost bliss.
Where sparks and fire do meet with tinder,
Those sparks meer fire will still engender:
To make this good, no debt shall be
From service or fidelity;
For she shall ever pay that score,
By only bidding us do more
So (though she still a Biggard be)
In gracing, where none's due, she's free
The favours she shall cast on us,
(Lest we should grow presumptuous)
Shall not with too much love be shown,
Nor yet the common way still done;
But ev'ry smile and little glance
Shall look half lent, and half by chance:
The ribbon, fan, or muff, that she
Would should be kept by thee or me,
Should not be giv'n before too many,
But neither thrown to's when there's any;
So that her selfe should doubtful be
Whether 'twere Fortune flung 't, or she.
She shall not like the thing we do
Sometimes, and yet shall like it too;
Nor any notice take at all
Of what, we gone, she would extol :
Love she shall feed, but fear to nourish;
For where fear is, love cannot flourish;
Yet live it must, nay must and shall,
While Desdemona is at all:
But when she's gone, then love shall die,
And in her grave buried lie.
FAREWELL TO LOVE.
WELL-Shadow'd landscape, fare-ye-well:
How I have lov'd you, none can tell ;
At least so well
As he that now hates more
Than e're he lov'd before.
But my dear nothings, take your leave,
No longer must you me deceive,
Since I perceive
All the deceit, and know
Whence the mistake did grow.
As he whose quicker eye doth trace
A false star shot to a mark'd place,
Does run apace,
And thinking it to catch,
A gelly up does snatch:
So our dull souls tasting delight
Far off, by sense and appetite,
Think that is right
And real good; when yet
"Tis but the counterfeit.
Oh how I glory now that I
Have made this new discovery!
Each wanton eye
Fnflam'd before: no more
Will I increase that score.
If I gaze now, 'tis but to see
What manner of death's-head 'twill be,
When it is free
From that fresh upper skin;
The gazer's joy, and sin.
The gum and glist'ning, which with art
And study'd method, in each part
Hangs down the heart,
Looks (just) as if, that day
Snails there had crawl'd the bay.
Our upon it, I have lov'd
Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather.
Time shall moult away his wings,
E'er he shall discover
In the whole wide world again
Such a constant lover.
But the spite on't is, no praise
Is due at all to me:
Love with me had made no stays,
Had it any been but she.
Had it any been but she,
And that very face,
There had been at least e'er this
A dozen dozen in her place.
Black Friars to me, and old Whitehall,
Is even as much as is the fall
Of fountains on a pathless grove,
And nourishes as much my love :
She's fair, &c.
I visit, talk, do business, play,
And for a need laugh out a day:
Who does not thus in Cupid's school,
He makes not love, but plays the fool:
She's fair, &c.
LOVE AND DEBT ALIKE TROUBLESOME.
THIS
one request I make to him that sits the clouds
above,
That I were freely out of debt, as I am out of love;
Then for to dance, to drink and sing, I shou'd be
very willing;
[a shilling.
I should not owe one lass a kiss, nor ne'er a knave
'Tis only being in love and debt, that breaks us of
our rest;
[is blest :
And he that is quite out of both, of all the world
He sees the golden age wherein all things were free
and common;
[man nor womar.
He eats, he drinks, he takes his rest, he fears no
Tho Croesus compassed great wealth, yet he still
[to door.
He was as needy a beggar still, as goes from door
Tho' Ovid was a merry man, love ever kept him sad;
He was as far from happiness, as one that is stark
mad.
[and treasure ;
Our merchant he in goods is rich, and full of gold
But when he thinks upon his debts, that thought
destroys his pleasure.
[man envies;
Our courtier thinks that he's preferr'd, whom every
When love so rumbles in his pate, no sleep comes
in his eyes.
[betwixt them;
Our gallant's case is worst of all, he lies so just
For he's in love, and he's in debt, and knows not
which most vex him.
[is so brown,
But he that can eat beef, and feed on bread which
May satisfie his appetite, and owe no man a crown:
And he that is content with lasses cloathed in plain
woollen,
[be sullen,
May cool his heat in every place, he need not to
Nor sigh for love of lady fair; for this each wise
man knows,
[cloaths.
under silken
As good stuff under flannel lies, as
But love is such a mystery
I cannot find it out:
For when I think I'm best resolv'd,
I then am in most doubt.
Then farewel care, and farewel wo,
I will no longer pine:
For I'll believe I have her heart,
As much as she has mine.
TO A LADY THAT FORBAD TO LOVE
BEFORE COMPANY.
WHAT! no more favours, not a ribbon more,
Not fan, not muff, to hold as heretofore?
Must all the little blisses then be left,
May we not look our selves into a trance,
And what was once love's gift, become our theft?
Teach our souls parley at our eyes, not glance,
Not touch the hand, not by soft wringing there,
Whisper a love, that only yes can hear?
Not free a sigh, a sigh that's there for you,
Dear, must I love you, and not love you too?
The feather'd choristers from place to place,
Be wise, nice fair: for sooner shall they trace
By prints they make in th' air, and sooner say
That fled from Heav'n to Earth, than guess to know
By what right line the last star made his way
How our loves first did spring, or how they grow.
Be taken tardy, when they night-tricks play,
Love is all spirit: Fairies sooner may
Than we; we are too dull and lumpish rather:
Would they cou'd find us both in bed together.
THE GUILTLESS INCONSTANT.
My first love, whom all beauties did adorn,
Firing my heart, supprest it with her scorn,
Since like the tinder in my breast it lies,
By every sparkle made a sacrifice,
Each wanton eye can kindle my desire,
Desiring more by the desire I lost,
And that is free to all which was entire;
As those that in consumptions linger most.
And now my wand'ring thoughts are not confin'd
Unto one woman, but to woman kind:
This for her shape I love, that for her face;
This for her gesture, or some other grace:
And where that none of all these things I find,
I choose her by the kernel, not the rhind:
And so I hope, since my first hope is gone,
To find in many what I lost in one;
And like to merchants after some great loss,
Trade by retail, that cannot do in gross.
The fault is hers that made me go astray;
He needs must wander that has lost his way:
Guiltless I am; she does this change provoke,
And made that charcoal, which to her was oak.
And as a looking-glass from the aspect,
Whilst it is whole, does but one face reflect,
But being crackt or broken, there are grown
Many less faces, where there was but one:
So love unto my heart did first prefer
Her image, and there placed none but her;
But since 'twas broke and martyr'd by her seorn,
Many less faces in her place are born.
LOVE'S REPRESENTATION.
LEANING her hand upon my breast,
There on Love's bed she lay to rest;
My panting heart rock'd her asleep,
My heedful eyes the watch did keep;
Then Love by me being harbour'd there,
Chose Hope to be his harbinger;
Desire, his rival, kept the door;
For this of him I begg'd no more,
But that, our mistress t' entertain,
Some pretty fancy he wou'd frame,
And represent it in a dream,
Of which my self shou'd give the theam.
Then first these thoughts I bid him show,
Which only he and I did know,
Array'd in duty and respect,
And not in fancies that reflect;
Then those of valne next present,
Approv'd by all the world's consent;
But to distinguish mine asunder,
Apparell'd they must be in wonder.
Such a device then I wou'd have,
As service, not reward, shou'd crave,
Attir'd in spotless innocence,
Not self-respect, nor no pretence:
Then such a faith I wou'd have shown,
As heretofore was never known,
Cloth'd with a constant clear intent,
Professing always as it meant.
And if Love no such garments have,
My mind a wardrobe is so brave,
That there sufficient he may see
To clothe impossibility.
Then beamy fetters he shall find,
By admiration subt❜ly twin'd,
That will keep fast the wanton'st thought,
That e'er imagination wrought:
There he shall find of joy a chain,
Fram'd by despair of her disdain,
So curiously, that it can't tie
The smallest hopes that thoughts now spy.
There acts as glorious as the Sun,
Are by her veneration spun,
In one of which I wou'd have brought
A pure unspotted abstract thought.
Considering her as she is good,
Not in her frame of flesh and blood.
These attoms then, all in her sight,
I bad him join, that so he might
Discern between true Love's creation,
And that Love's form that's now in fashion.
Love granting unto my request,
Began to labour in my breast;
But with the motion he did make,
It heav'd so high that she did wake;
Blush'd at the favour she had done,
Then smil'd, and then away did run.
THE crafty boy, that had full oft essay'd
To pierce my stubborn and resisting breast,
But still the bluntness of his darts betray'd,
Resolv'd at last of setting up his rest,
Either my wild unruly heart to tame,
Or quit his godhead, and his bow disclaim.
So all his lovely looks, his pleasing fires,
All his sweet motions, all his taking smiles,
All that awakes, all that inflames desires,
All that sweetly commands, all that beguiles,
He does into one pair of eyes convey,
And there begs leave that he himself may stay.
And there he brings me where his ambush lay,
Secure, and careless to a stranger land:
And never warning me, which was foul play,
Does make me close by all this beauty stand.
Where first struck dead. I did at last recover,
To know that I might only live to love her.
So I'll be sworn I do, and do confess
The blind lad's pow'r, whilst he inhabits there;
But I'll be even with him nevertheless,
If e'er I chance to meet with him elsewhere.
If other eys invite the boy to tarry,
I'll fly to hers as to a sanctuary.
BLACK SPOTS WORN BY MY LADY D. E.
KNOW your heart cannot so guilty be, That you should wear those spots for vanity; Or as your beauty's trophies, put on one For every murther which your eyes have done; No, they're your mourning-weeds for hearts forlorn, Which tho' you must not love, you cou'd not scorn; To whom since cruel honour do's deny Those joys cou'd only cure their misery, Yet you this noble way to grace 'em found, Whilst thus your grief their martyrdom has crown'd: Of which take heed you prove not prodigal; For if to every common funeral,
By your eyes martyr'd, such grace were allow'd, Your face would wear not patches, but a cloud,
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