He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks; Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs

To fan and blow them dry again she seeks: 52
He saith she is immodest, blames her miss;
What follows more she murders with a kiss.

Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,
Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone,
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, 57
Till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone;

Even so she kiss'dhis brow, his cheek, his chin,
And where she ends she doth anew begin. 60
Forc'd to content, but never to obey,
Panting he lies, and breatheth in her face;
She feedeth on the steam, as on a prey,
And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace; 64
Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of
flowers,

showers.

So they were dew'd with such distilling

Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.

112

Look! how a bird lies tangled in a net, So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies;

O! be not proud, nor brag not of thy might, For mastering her that foil'd the god of fight.

68

Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:

thine,

'Art thou asham'd to kiss? then wink again, And I will wink; so shall the day seem night; Love keeps his revels where there are but twain;

124

Which long have rain'd, making her cheeks all wet;

Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:
These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean
Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.
'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
Shows thee unripe, yet mayst thou well be

And now Adonis with a lazy spright,
And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye,
His louring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight,
Like misty vapours when they blot the sky, 184
Souring his cheeks, cries, 'Fiel no more of
love:

The sun doth burn my face; I must remove.' 'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind? What bare excuses mak'st thou to be gone; 188 I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind Shall cool the heat of this descending sun:

I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs; If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears.

192

feed,

Unless the earth with thy increase be fed?
By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;
And so in spite of death thou dost survive, 173
In that thy likeness still is left alive.'

'Fie! lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,

212

Statue contenting but the eye alone,
Thing like a man, but of no woman bred:
Thou art no man, though of a man's com-
plexion,

For men will kiss even by their own direction.'

This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,

217

And swelling passion doth provoke a pause; Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong; Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause: And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak,

221

And now her sobs do her intendments break.

Sometimes she shakes her head, and then his hand;

Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground; 224 Sometimes her arms infold him like a band: She would, he will not in her arms be bound; And when from thence he struggles to be gone,

She locks her lily fingers one in one. 228

'Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, 233 Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

'Within this limit is relief enough, Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain, Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough,

237

To shelter thee from tempest and from rain:
Then be my deer, since I am such a park;
No dog shall rouse thee, though a thousand
bark.'

240

What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
His flattering 'Holla,' or his 'Stand, I say?' 284
What cares he now for curb or pricking spur?
For rich caparisons or trapping gay?

He sees his love, and nothing else he sees,
Nor nothing else with his proud sight agrees.

In limning out a well-proportion'd steed,
His art with nature's workmanship at strife,
As if the dead the living should exceed;

292

356

O! what a war of looks was then between them;
Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing;
His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen
them;

Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing:

And all this dumb play had his acts made plain

With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain.

Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
A lily prison'd in a gaol of snow,
Or ivory in an alabaster band;
So white a friend engirts so white a foe:

360

364

Out-stripping crows that strive to over-fly them.

wound;

All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boisterous and unruly beast:
And now the happy season once more fits,
That love-sick Love by pleading may be blest;
For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.

324

For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee, Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee.'

372

'Give me my hand,' saith he, 'why dost thou feel it?'

'Give me my heart,' saith she, 'and thou shalt have it;

O! give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it,
And being steel'd, soft sighs can never grave it:
Then love's deep groans I never shall regard,
Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard.'

'For shame,' he cries, 'let go, and let me go;
My day's delight is past, my horse is gone, 380
And 'tis your fault I am bereft him so:
I pray you hence, and leave me here alone:
For all my mind, my thought, my busy care,
Is how to get my palfrey from the mare.' 384
Thus she replies: 'Thy palfrey, as he should,
Welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire:
Affection is a coal that must be cool'd;

Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire: 388 The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none;

Therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone.