Part 7 (1/2)

But since my soul from me doth fly, To thee retir'd, Thou canst not both retain; for I 15 Must be with one inspir'd; Then, Dearest,[41:5] either justly mine Restore, or in exchange let me have thine.

Yet if thou dost return mine own, O tak't again! 20 For 'tis this pleasing death alone Gives ease unto my pain.

Kill me once more, or I shall find Thy pity than thy cruelty less kind.

THE s...o...b..LL.

Doris, I that could repel All those darts about thee dwell, And had wisely learn'd to fear 'Cause I saw a foe so near; I that my deaf ear did arm 5 'Gainst thy voice's powerful charm; And the lightning of thine eye Durst, by closing mine, defy; Cannot this cold snow withstand From the winter[42:1] of thy hand. 10 Thy deceit hath thus done more Than thy open force before: For who could suspect or fear Treason in a face so clear, Or the hidden fires descry 15 Wrapt in this cold outside lie?

Flames might thus, involv'd in ice, The deceiv'd world sacrifice; Nature, ignorant of this Strange antiperistasis, 20 Would her falling frame admire, That by snow were set on fire!

SPEAKING AND KISSING.

The air which thy smooth voice doth break Into my soul like lightning flies; My life retires whilst thou dost speak, And thy soft breath its room supplies.

Lost in this pleasing ecstasy, 5 I join my trembling lips to thine, And back receive that life from thee, Which I so gladly did resign.

Forbear, platonic fools! t'inquire What numbers do the soul compose: 10 No harmony can life inspire, But that which from these accents flows.

THE DEPOSITION.[43:1]

Though when I lov'd thee thou wert[43:2] fair, Thou art no longer so: Those glories do[43:3] the pride they wear Unto opinion owe.

Beauties, like stars, in borrow'd l.u.s.tre s.h.i.+ne; 5 And 'twas my love that gave thee thine.

The flames that dwelt within thine eye Do now with mine expire; Thy brightest graces[43:4] fade and die At once, with my desire. 10 Love's fires thus mutual influence return: Thine cease to s.h.i.+ne when mine to burn.

Then, proud Celinda, hope no more To be implor'd or woo'd, Since by thy scorn thou dost restore 15 The wealth my[43:5] love bestow'd; And thy despis'd disdain too late shall find That none are fair but who are kind.

LOVE'S HERETIC.

He whose active thoughts disdain To be captive to one foe, And would break his single chain, Or else more would undergo, Let him learn the art of me, 5 By new bondage to be free!

What tyrannic mistress dare To one beauty Love confine?

Who, unbounded as the air, All may court, but none decline. 10 Why should we the heart deny As many objects as the eye?

Wheresoe'er I turn or move, A new pa.s.sion doth detain me: Those kind beauties that do love, 15 Or those proud ones that disdain me.

This frown melts, and that smile burns me; This to tears, that, ashes, turns me.

Soft fresh virgins not full-blown With their youthful sweetness take me; 20 Sober matrons that have known, Long since, what these prove, awake me; Here, staid coldness I admire, There, the lively active fire.

She that doth by skill dispense 25 Every favour she bestows, Or the harmless innocence Which nor court nor city knows;-- Both alike my soul inflame, That wild beauty, and this tame. 30

She that wisely can adorn Nature with the wealth of Art, Or whose rural sweets do scorn Borrow'd helps to[44:1] take a heart;-- The vain care of that's my pleasure; 35 Poverty of this, my treasure.

Both the wanton and the coy Me with equal pleasure[44:2] move; She whom I by force enjoy, Or who forceth me to love: 40 This, because she'll not confess, That, not hide, her happiness.

She whose loosely flowing hair, (Scatter'd like the beams o' th' morn.) Playing with the sportive air, 45 Hides the sweets it doth adorn, Captive in that net restrains me, In those golden fetters chains me;