Volume Ii Part 79 (1/2)

She that bears a n.o.ble mind, If not outward helps she find, Thinks what with them he would do That without them dares her woo; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be?

Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair; If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve; If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go; For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be?

George Wither [1588-1667]

HIS FURTHER RESOLUTION

Shall I (like a hermit) dwell On a rock or in a cell; Calling home the smallest part That is missing of my heart, To bestow it where I may Meet a rival every day?

If she undervalue me, What care I how fair she be!

Were her tresses angel-gold; If a stranger may be bold, Unrebuked, and unafraid, To convert them to a braid; And, with little more ado, Work them into bracelets, too!

If the mine be grown so free, What care I how rich it be!

Were her hands as rich a prize As her hair or precious eyes; If she lay them out to take Kisses for good manners' sake!

And let every lover slip From her hand unto her lip!

If she seem not chaste to me, What care I how chaste she be!

No! She must be perfect snow In effect as well as show!

Warming but as s...o...b..a.l.l.s do; Not like fire by burning, too!

But when she by change hath got To her heart a second lot; Then if others share with me, Farewell her! whate'er she be!

Unknown

SONG From ”Britannia's Pastorals”

Shall I tell you whom I love?

Hearken then awhile to me; And if such a woman move As I now shall versify, Be a.s.sured 'tis she or none, That I love, and love alone.

Nature did her so much right As she scorns the help of art; In as many virtues dight As e'er yet embraced a heart: So much good so truly tried, Some for less were deified.

Wit she hath, without desire To make known how much she hath; And her anger flames no higher Than may fitly sweeten wrath.

Full of pity as may be, Though perhaps not so to me.

Reason masters every sense, And her virtues grace her birth; Lovely as all excellence, Modest in her most of mirth, Likelihood enough to prove Only worth could kindle love.

Such she is: and if you know Such a one as I have sung; Be she brown, or fair, or so That she be but somewhat young; Be a.s.sured 'tis she, or none, That I love, and love alone.