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O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true

Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no.
How can it? O! how can Love's eye be

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Love is too young to know what conscience is;
Yet who knows not conscience is born of

6 Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason,
But rising at thy name doth point out thee
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

That is so vex'd with watching and with

No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears. 12
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me

Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should




No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.


Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?


In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swear-

In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn,
In vowing new hate after new love bearing.

On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon? 6 But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,

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When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most;
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee.
And all my honest faith in thee is lost:


For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kind


Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; 10
And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see:
For I have sworn thee fair; more perjur'd I,
To swear against the truth so foul a lie!



Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep:
A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,


But found no cure: the bath for my help lies

Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress' eyes.


The little Love-god lying once asleep

Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep


Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
The fairest votary took up that fire
Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;
And so the general of hot desire
Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm'd.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy
For men diseas'd; but I, my mistress' thrall, 12
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.



FROM off a hill whose concave womb re-worded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tun'd tale;
Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and

| Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat, Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride; For some, untuck'd, descended her sheav'd hat, Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside; Some in her threaden fillet still did bide, And true to bondage would not break from thence

Though slackly braided in loose negligence.


Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought might think sometime it Which one by one she in a river threw,

8 A thousand favours from a maund she drew 36
Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,

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A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh-
Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours, observed as they flew
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
And, privileg'd by age, desires to know

In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.

So slides he down upon his grained bat,
And comely-distant sits he by her side;
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide:


'Well could he ride, and often men would say "That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, 60 What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!"


And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.

'But quickly on this side the verdict went: His real habitude gave life and grace To appertainings and to ornament,

If that from him there may be aught applied 68 Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case:

Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage, 'Tis promis'd in the charity of age.

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'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls,
And every light occasion of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
For on his visage was in little drawn
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.

'Small show of man was yet upon his chin; 92
His phoenix down began but to appear
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin
Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to

Yet show'd his visage by that cost more dear, 96
And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
If best were as it was, or best without.

'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof

Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm
As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they

His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth
Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.





All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
Came for additions; yet their purpos'd trim
Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him.
'So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kind of arguments and question deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will:


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'So many have, that never touch'd his hand,
Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed power,
Reserv'd the stalk and gave him all my flower.
'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
Finding myself in honour so forbid,
With safest distance I mine honour shielded.
Experience for me many bulwarks builded 154
Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the fou
Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.




'But, ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent
The destin'd ill she must herself assay?
Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content,
To put the by-pass'd perils in her way?
Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
For when we rage, advice is often seen
By blunting us to make our wits more keen.
'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
That we must curb it upon others' proof;
To be forbid the sweets that seem so good, 164
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
O appetite! from judgment stand aloof;
The one a palate hath that needs will taste, 167
Though Reason weep, and cry "It is thy last.'
'For further I could say "This man's untrue,"
And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew,
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; 172
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
Thought characters and words merely but art,
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.



And long upon these terms I held my city, 176 Till thus he 'gan besiege me: Gentle maid, Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, And be not of my holy vows afraid: That's to ye sworn to none was ever said; For feasts of love I have been call'd unto, Till now did ne'er invite, nor never woo. ""All my offences that abroad you see Are errors of the blood, none of the mind; Love made them not: with acture they may be, Where neither party is nor true nor kind: They sought their shame that so their shame did find,


And so much less of shame in me remains, 188 By how much of me their reproach contains. "Among the many that mine eyes have seen, Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd,

Or my affection put to the smallest teen, 192 Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:

Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd;

Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy. 196 "Look here, what tributes wounded fancies

sent me,

Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood; Figuring that they their passions likewise lent


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Paling the place which did no form receive,
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves?
She that her fame so to herself contrives,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight,
""O! pardon me, in that my boast is true;
The accident which brought me to her eye
Upon the moment did her force subdue,
And now she would the caged cloister fly;
Religious love put out Religion's eye:
Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd,
And now, to tempt, all liberty procur'd.

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How mighty then you are, O! hear me tell: What rocky heart to water will not wear? The broken bosoms that to me belong

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And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.
""Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine;
And supplicant their sighs to you extend,


To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,

Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
That shall prefer and undertake my troth." 280
'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
Whose sights till then were levell'd on my face;
Each cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish current downward flow'd apace.
O! how the channel to the stream gave grace;
Who glaz'd with crystal gate the glowing roses
That flame through water which their hue


'O father! what a hell of witchcraft lies In the small orb of one particular tear, But with the inundation of the eyes


What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.


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His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.
'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or swounding paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
Or to turn white and swound at tragic shows:
'That not a heart which in his level came


Could 'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, Showing fair nature is both kind and tame; And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim:

312 Against the thing he sought he would exclaim; When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity.

'Thus merely with the garment of a Grace 316 The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; Which like a cherubin above them hover'd. That the unexperient gave the tempter place, Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd?


Ay me! I fell; and yet do question make
What I should do again for such a sake.
'O! that infected moisture of his eye,
O! that false fire which in his cheek so glow`d,
O! that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly,
O! that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,
288 O! all that borrow'd motion seeming ow'd,
Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd,
And new pervert a reconciled maid.'


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