Our own false praises, for your ends: Nor do we doubt but that we can, If we would search with care and pain, Find some one good in some one man; So going thorough all your strain, We shall, at last, of parcels make One good enough for a song's sake. And as a cunning painter takes, In any curious piece you see, More pleasure while the thing he makes, Than when 'tis made. -why so will we. And having pleased our art, we'll try To make a new, and hang that by. ANOTHER, IN DEFENCE OF THEIR INCONSTANCY. Hang up those dull and envious fools Take that away, you take our lives; Such as in valor would excel, Do change, though man, and often fight; Which we in love must do as well, If ever we will love aright: The frequent varying of the deed, Nor is 't inconstancy to change For what is better, or to make, The good from bad is not descried, And this profession of a store In love, doth not alone help forth Our pleasure; but preserves us more From being forsaken, than doth worth: For were the worthiest woman cursed To love one man, he 'd leave her first. A NYMPH'S PASSION. I love, and he loves me again, For if the nymphs should know my swain, I fear they 'd love him too; Yet if it be not known, The pleasure is as good as none, For that's a narrow joy is but our own. I'll tell, that, if they be not glad, They may yet envy me; But then if I grow jealous mad, And of them pitied be, It were a plague 'bove scorn: And yet it cannot be forborn, Unless my heart would, as my thought, be torn. He is, if they can find him, fair, And looks as lilies do That are this morning blown: Yet, yet I doubt be is not known, And fear much more, that more of him be shown. But he hath eyes so round and bright, Where Love may all his torches light, But then, t' increase my fears, What nymph soe'er his voice but hears Will be my rival, though she have but ears. I'll tell no more, and yet I love, But so exempt from blame, If love, or fear, would let me tell his name. THE HOUR-GLASS.10 Do but consider this small dust Here running in the glass, 10 A copy of the verses sent by Jonson to Drummond bore the following inscription: "To the honoring respect, Born To the friendship contracted with And the perpetuating the same by all offices of love I Benjamin Jonson, Whom he hath honored with the leave to be called There is another copy of the verses, printed in 1640, called On a Gentle-woman working by an Hour-glass. The three versions differ slightly; but the variations are unimportant. Whalley has pointed out the source from whence the suggestion of the madrigal was derived, in the following Latin lines of the Italian poet Jerome Amaltheus :— HOROLOGIUM PULVEREUM, TUMULUS ALCIPPI. IOLE TUMULUS. Horarum in vitro pulvis nunc mensor, Iolæ There is a similar conceit in Herrick's lines on an hour-glass filled with water composed of the tears of lovers, which tell, as they drop, "That lovers' tears in lifetime shed, Do restless run when they are dead.” — B. By atoms moved; Could you believe that this The body was Of one that loved? And in his mistress' flame, playing like a fly, Turned to cinders by her eye? Yes; and in death, as life, unblessed, Even ashes of lovers find no rest! MY PICTURE LEFT IN SCOTLAND. I now think Love is rather deaf than blind, That she, Whom I adore so much, should so slight me, I'm sure my language to her was as sweet, And every close did meet, In sentence of as subtle feet, Oh! but my conscious fears, That fly my thoughts between, Tell me that she hath seen My hundred of gray hairs, Told seven and forty years, Read so much waist, as she cannot embrace My mountain belly, and my rocky face, And all these, through her eyes, have stopped her ears. |