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Yet, I would not have all yet,
I can remember yet, that I He that hath all can bave no more,
Something did say, and something did bestow; And since my love doth every day admit (store; | Though I be dead, which sent me, I might be New growth, thou should'st have new rewards in Mine own executor, and legacy. Thou canst not every day give me thy heart, If thou canst give it, then thou never gav'st it:
I heard me say, tell her anon, Lovers riddles are, that though thy heart depart,
That myself, that is you, not I, It stays at home, and thou with losing sav'st it:
Did kill me, and when I felt me die, But we will love a way more liberal,
I bid me send my heart, when I was gone, Than changing hearts, to join us, so we shall
But I, alas ! could find there none.
(lie, Be one, and one another's all.
When I had ripp'd, and search'd where hearts should
Yet I found something like a heart,
For colours it and corners had,
It was not good, it was not bad,
It was entire to none, and few had part:
As good, as could be made by art,
It seem'd, and therefore for our loss be sad,
I meant to send that heart instead of mine,
But oh! no man could hold it, for 't was thine.
On do not die, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone,
That thee I shall not celebrate,
When I remember thou wast one.
But yet thou canst not die, I know;
To leave this world behind is death;
But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapours in thy breath.
Or if, when thou, the world's soul, goest,
It stay, 't is but thy carcass then,
The fairest woman, but thy ghost;
But corrupt worms, the worthiest men.
O wrangling schools, that search what fire
Shall burn this world, had noue the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire,
That this her fever might be it!
And yet she cannot waste by this,
Nor long endure this torturing wrong,
For more corruption needful is,
To fuel such a fever long.
These burning fits but meteors be,
Whose matter in thee soon is spent.
Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee,
Are an unchangeable firmament.
Yet 't was of my mind, seizing thee,
Though it in thee cannot persever;
For I had rather owner be
Of thee one hour, than all else ever.
AIR AND ANGELS.
Still when, to where thou wert, I came,
But since my soul, whose child love is,
Only our love hath no decay:
Running it never runs from us away,
But truly keeps his first-last-everlasting day.
Two graves must hide thine and my corse: That it assume thy body, I allow,
If one might, death were no divorce, And fix itself in thy lips, eyes, and brow.
Alas! as well as other princes, we,
(Who prince enough in one another be) Whilst thus to ballast love, I thought,
Must leave at last in death these eyes and ears, And so more steadily thave gone,
Oft fed with true oaths, and with sweet salt tears: With wares which would sink admiration
But souls where nothing dwells but love; I saw, I had Love's pinnace overfraught;
(All other thoughts being inmates) then shall prove Thy every hair for love to work upon
This, or a love increased there above, [remove." Is much too much, some fitter must be sought ; When bodies to their graves, souls from their graves
For, nor in nothing, nor in things
And then we shall be throughly bless'd:
But now no more than all the rest.
Here upon Earth we' are kings, and none but we Just such disparity
Can be such kings, nor of such subjects be; As is 'twixt air and angel's purity,
Who is so safe as we? where none can do
Treason to us, except one of us two. 'Twixt women's love, and men's will ever be.
True and false fears let us refrain :
To write threescore, this is the second of our reign.
A VALEDICTION OF MY NAME,
Stay, O sweet, and do not rise,
Stay, or else my joys will die,
IN THE WINDOW
'T is true, 't is day; what though it be?
My name engrav'd herein,
Which ever since that charm hath been
As bard as that, which grav'd it, was;
The diamonds of either rock.
Light hath no tongue, but is all eye;
And that I lov'd my heart and honour so,
'T is much that glass should be As all confessing and through-shine as I,
'T is more that it shows thee to thee,
And clear reflects thee to thine eye,
Here you see me, and I see you.
Must business thee from hence remove?
He which hath business, and makes love, doth do
As no one point nor dash,
The show'rs and tempests can outwash,
So shall all times find me the same ;
Who have the pattern with you still.
Or iftoo hard and deep
It as a given death's-head keep,
Lovers' mortality to preach ;
My ruinous anatomy.
Then as all my souls be
I understand, and grow, and see)
The rafters of my body, bone,
Which tile this house, will come again.
Till my return, repair
Nor can you more judge woman's thoughts by tears, And recompact my scatter'd body so,
Than by her shadow, what she wears. As all the virtuous powers, which are
O perverse sex, where none is true but she, Fix'd in the stars, are said to flow
Who's therefore true, because her truth kills me. Into such characters as graved be,
When those stars had supremacy.
So since this name was cut,
VALEDICTION TO HIS BOOK.
I'll tell thee now (dear love) what thou shalt do 'T will make thee; and thou should'st, till I return, To anger destiny, as she doth us; Since I die daily, daily mourn.
How I shall stay, though she eloigne me thus,
And how posterity shall know it too ;
How thine may out-endure
Sibyl's glory, and obscure To look on one, whose wit or land
Her, who from Pindar could allure, New battery to thy heart may frame,
And her, through whose help Lucan is not lame, Then think this name alive, and that thou thus
And her, whose book (they say) Homer did find In it offend’st my genius.
and name. And when thy melted maid, Corrupted by thy lover's gold or page,
Study our manuscripts, those myriads His letter at thy pillow" hath laid,
Of letters, which have past 'twixt thee and me, Dispute thou it, and tame thy rage.
Thence write our annals, and in them will be If thou to him begin'st to thaw for this,
To all, whom love's subliming fire invades,
Rule and example found;
There, the faith of any ground
No schismatic will dare to wound,
That sees, how love this grace to us affords, In superscribing, my name flow
To make, to keep, to use, to be, these his records
This book, as long liv'd as the elements,
Or as the world's form, this all-graved tomb,
In cipher writ, or new made idiom;
We for love's clergy only' are instruments;
When this book is made thus, Near death inficts this lethargy,
Should again the ravenous And thus I murmur in my sleep;
Vandals and Goths invade us, Impute this idle talk to that I go,
Learning were safe in this our universe, (vere.
Schools might learn sciences, spheres music, angels
Is love or wonder) may find all they seek,
Whether abstracted spiritual love they like,
Or loath so to amuse BLASTED with sighs, and surrounded with tears,
Faith's infirmities, they chuse Hither I come to seek the spring,
Something, which they may see and use; And at mine eyes, and at mine ears
For though mind be the Heaven, where love doth Receive such balm as else cures every thing :
Beauty a convenient type may be to figure it. sit, But O, self-traitor, I do bring The spider love, which transubstantiates all,
Here more than in their books may lawyers find, And can convert manna to gall,
Both by what titles mistresses are ours, And that this place may thoroughly be thought
And how prerogative these states devours, True Paradise, I have the serpent brought.
Transferrd from Love himself to womankind : 'T were wholesomer for me, that winter did
Who, though from heart and eyes Benight the glory of this place,
They exact great subsidies, And that.a grave frost did forbid
Forsake bim, who on them relies, These trees to laugh, and mock me to my face;
And for the cause honour or conscience gire; But since I cannot this disgrace
Chimeras, vain as they, or their prerogative.
Here statesmen, (or of them they which can read) Make me a mandrake, so I may grow here,
May of their occupation find the grounds, Or a stone fountain weeping out my year.
Love and their art alike it deadly wounds,
If to consider, what’t is, one proceed, Hither with crystal phjals, lovers, come,
In both they do excel, And take my tears, which are love's wine,
Who the present govern well, And try your mistress' tears at home,
Whose weakness none doth or dares tell; For all are false, that taste not just like mine; In this thy book such will there something see, Alas! hearts do not in eyes shine,
As in the Bible some can find ont alchymy.
Thus vent thy thoughts; abroad I 'll study thee, If, as in water stirr'd more circles be
As he remores far off, that great heights takes: Produc'd by one, love such additions take,
How great love is, presence best trial makes, Those, like so many spheres, but one Heaven make, But absence tries, how long this love will be; For they are all concentric unto thee; To take a latitude,
And though each spring do add to love new heat,
As princes do in times of action get
COMMUNITY. Good we must love, and must hate ill, For ill is ill, and good good still;
But there are things indifferent,
As we shall find out fancy bent.
Only this rests, all all may use.
And to all eyes itself betrays:
So they deserve nor blame nor praise.
And he that leaves all, doth as well;
Who doth not fling away the shell ?
Love, any devil else but you
Give me thy weakness, make me blind
If thou give nothing, yet thou 'rt just,
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Love by the spring is grown;
As in the firmament
For this Love is enrag'd with me,
Thought his pain and shame would be lesser
And thence a law did grow,
Fruits of much grief they are, emblems of more, One might but one man know;
When a tear falls, that thou fall'st, which it bore; But are other creatures so?.
So thou and I are nothing then, when on a divers
shore. Are Sun, Moon, or stars, by law forbidden To smile where they list, or lend away their light?
On a round ball Are birds divorc'd, or are they chidden
A workman, that bath copies by, can lay If they leave their mate, or lie abroad all night?
An Europe, Afric, and an Asia, Beasts do no joiutures lose,
And quickly make that, which was nothing, all :
So doth each tear, Though they new lovers choose,
Which thee doth wear, But we are made worse than those.
A globe, yea world, by that impression grow,
Till thy tears mix'd with mine do overflow Whoe'er rigg'd fair ships to lie in harbours,
This world, by waters sent from thee, my Heav'n And not to seek lands, or not to deal with all ?
O‘more than Moon,
Draw not up seas to drown me in thy sphere;
Weep me not dead in thine arms, but forbear But doth waste with greediness.
To teach the sea, what it may do too soon;
Let not the wind
To do me more harm than it purposeth:
Since thou and I sigh one another's breath,
Whoe'er sighs most, is cruelest, and hastes the Dear love, for nothing less than thee
other's death. Would I have broke this happy dream,
It was a theme
Some that have deeper digg'd Love's mine than I, Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best
Say, where his centric happiness doth lie:
I've lov'd, and got, and told,
I should not find that hidden mystery ;
Oh, 't is imposture all:
And as no chymic yet th' elixir got,
But glorifies his pregnant pot, (For thou lov'st truth) an angel at first sight,
If by the way to him befall But when I saw thou saw'st my heart,
Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal, And knew'st my thoughts beyond an angel's art,
So lovers dream a rich and long delight, When thou knew'st what I dreamt, then thou
But get a winter-seeming summer's night. knew'st when Excess of joy would wake me, and cam'st then;
Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day, I must confess, it could not choose but be
Shall we for this vain bubble's shadow pay? Profane to think thee any thing but thee.
Ends love in this, that my man
Can be as happy as I; if he can Coming and staying show'd thee thee,
Endure the short scorn of a bridegroom's play! But rising makes me doubt, that now
That loving wretch that swears,
'T is not the bodies marry, but the minds,
Would swear as justly, that he hears, If mixture it of fear, shame, honour, have, In that day's rude hoarse minstrelsy, the spheres. Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Hope pot for mind in women; at their best Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me, Sweetness and wit, they 're but mummy possest. Thou cam'st to kindle, goest to come: then I Will dream that hope again, but else would die..
Who is my mistress, wither by this curse;
Him only for his purse
May some dull whore to love dispose, For thy face coins them, and thy stamp they bear: And then yield unto all that are bis foes; And by this mintage they are something worth, May he be scorn'd by one, whom all else scorn, For thus they be
Forswear to others, what to her h' hath sword, Pregnant of thee;
With fear of missing, shame of getting torn.