vn CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE Joseph Whitmore Barry dramatic library THE GIFT OF TWO FRIENDS OF Cornell University ^934 Date Due NOVi^O 1960 GS m\n noonjff Aue^^W ^(^^^■—fe 41( 15 -W 29 1>^ nvj>,^:»^^ iff iV«iw-i;;;;^.i,L.i H""]? 1 1 iiw,., t— ft— Himghtirii 1TO '^ 1^ I9?ff" PRINTED IN (Sr NO. 23233 Cornell University Library PR 2848.A2S65 Shakespeare's sonnets, and A lover's comp 3 1924 013 143 593 The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013143593 SHAKESPEARE'S Sonnets, and a Lover's Complaint. Reprinted in the Orthography, and Pundtuation of the original edition of 1609. " Whofe remembrance yet Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues Be theme and hearing ever.'' Cymbeline, Act. hi. Sc. i. LONDON: JOHN RUSSELL SMITH, 36, SOHO SQUARE. 1870. u I J i-L-t i/rf -^',_,f ^,j*,i.j.,^ ^ »<^/"^< t SHAKESPEARES SONNETS Neuer before Imprinted. AT LONDON By G. Eld for T, T. and are to be folde by William AJpley. 1609. TO . THE . ONLIE . BEGETTER . OF. THESE . INSVING . SONNETS. M^ W. H. ALU. HAPPINESSE. AND . THAT . ETERNITIE. PROMISED. BY. OVR . EVER-LIVING . POET. WISHETH. THE . WELL-WISHING . ADVENTVRER . IN . SETTING. FORTH. T. T. OHAKE-SPEARES SONNETS. TT^Rom faireft creatures we defire Increafe, That thereby beauties Rofe might neuer die. But as the riper fhould by time dsceafe. His tender heire might beare his memory : But thou contrafted to thine owne bright eyes, Feed'ft thy hghts flame with felfe fubftantiall fewell, Making a famine where aboundance lies, Thy felfe thy foe, to thy fweet felfe too cruell : Thou that art now the worlds freih ornament, And only herauld to the gaudy fpring, Within thine own bud burieft thy content, And tender chorlemakft waft in niggarding : Pitty the world, or elfe this glutton be, To eate the worlds due, by the graue and thee. 2 "\7'"\7Hen fortie Winters fhall befeige thy brow, And digge deep trenches in thy beauties field. Thy youthes proud liuery fo gaz'd on now, Wil be a totter'd weed of fmal worth held : Then being askt, where all thy beautie lies, W^here all the treafure of thy lufty daies ; To fay within thine owne deepe funken eyes. Where an all-eating fhame, and thriftlefle praife. How much more praife deferu'd thy beauties vfe. If thou couldft anfwere this faire child of mine Shall fum my count, and make my old excufe Proouing his beautie by fucceffion thine. B This Shake-speares This were to be new made when thou art ould. And iee thy blood warme when thou feel'fl: it could, 3 T Ooke in thy glafle and tell the face thou veweft, -^Now is the time that face fliould forme an other, Whofe freih repaire if now thou not reneweft. Thou doo'ft beguile the world, vnbleffe fome mother. For where is fhe fo faire whofe vn-eard wombe Difdaines the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he fo fonde will be the tombe. Of his felfe loue to flop pofterity? Thou art thy mothers glaffe and flie in thee Calls backe the louely Aprill of her prime. So thou through windowes of thine age fhalt fee, Difpight of wrinkles this thy goulden time. But if thou liue remembred not to be, Die fingle and thine Image dies with thee. 4 '^/'Nthrifty louelinefTe why doft thou fpend, Vpon thy felfe thy beauties legacy ? Natures bequeft giues nothing but doth lend. And being franck fhe lends to thofe are free : Then beautious nigard why dooft thou abufe. The bountious largefTe giuen thee to giue ? Profitles vferer why dooft thou vfe So great a fumme of fummes yet can'ft not liue ? For hauing traffike with thy felfe alone. Thou of thy felfe thy fweet felfe doft deceaue. Then how when nature calls thee to be gone. What acceptable Audit can'ft thou leaue ? Thy vnuf d beauty muft be tomb'd with thee. Which vfed liues th' executor to be. 5 ^Hofe howers that with gentle worke did frame. The louely gaze where euery eye doth dwell Will play the tirants to the very fame. And Sonnets. And that vnfaire which fairely doth excell : For neuer refting time leads Summer on, To hidious winter and confounds him there, Sap checkt with froft and luftie leau 's quite gon. Beauty ore-fnow'd and barenes euery where. Then were not fummers diftillation left A liquid prifoner pent in walls of glafle. Beauties efFedt with beauty were bereft. Nor it nor noe remembrance what it was. But flowers diftil'd though they with winter meete, Leefe but their fhow, their fubftance ftill liues fweet. npHen let not winter's wragged hand deface. In thee thy fummer ere thou be diftil'd : Make fweet fome viall ; treafure thou fome place, With beautits treafure ere it be felfe kil'd : That vfe is not forbidden vfery, Which happles thofe that pay the willing lone ; That's for thy felfe to breed an other thee, Or ten times happier be it ten for one. Ten times thy felfe were happier then thou art. If ten of thine ten times refigur'd thee. Then what could death doe if thou fhould'ft depart, Leauing thee liuing in pofterity? Be not felfe-wild for thou art much too faire, To be deaths conqueft and make wormes thine heire. 7 T Oe in the Orient when the gracious light. "^Lifts vp his burning head, each vnder eye Doth homage to his new appearing fight, Seruing with lookes his facred maiefty. And hauing climb'd the fteepe vp heauenly hill, Refembling ftrong youth in his middle age, Yet mortall lookes adore his beauty ftill. Attending on his goulden pilgrimage : But when from high-moft pich with wery car, B 2 Like Shake-speares Like feeble age he reeletPi from the day. The eyes (fore dutious) now conuerted are From his low tra6t and looke an other way : So thou, thy felfe out-going in thy noon Vnlok'd on dieft vnlefTe thou get a fonne. f'Vfick to heare, why hear 'ft thou mufick fadly. Sweets with fweets warre not, ioy delights in ioy : Why lou'ft thou that which thou receauft not gladly. Or elfe receau'ft with pleafure thine annoy ? If the true concord of well tuned founds. By vnions married do offend thine eare. They do but fweetly chide thee, who confounds In fmgleneffe the parts that thou fhould'ft beare : Marke how one ftring fweet husband to an other. Strikes each in each by mutuall ordering ; Refembling fier, and child, and happy mother. Who all in one, one pleafmg note do fmg : Whofe fpeechleffe fong being many, feeming one. Sings this to thee thou fingle wilt proue none. TS it for feare to wet a widdowes eye. That thou confum'ft thy felfe in fingle life ? Ah ; if thou iffulefle fhalt hap to die. The world will waile thee like a makeleffe wife. The world wilbe thy widdow and ftill weepe. That thou no forme of thee haft left behind. When euery priuat widdow well may keepe. By childrens eyes, her husbands fhape in minde : Looke what an vnthrift in the world doth fpend Shifts but his place, for ftill the world inioyes it But beauties wafte hath in the world an end. And kept vnvfde the vfer fo deftroyes it : No loue toward others in that bofome fits That on himfelfe fuch murdrous fhame commits. lO. -8- ^ Sonnets. lO ^Or fhame deny that thou bear'ft loue to any Who for thy felfe art fo vnprouident Graunt if thou wilt, thou art belou'd of many. But that thou none lou'ft is mofl: euldent : For thou art fo pofTeft with murdrous hate. That gainft thy felfe thou ftickft not to confpire, Seeking that beautious roofe to ruinate Which to repaire fhould be thy chiefe defire : O change thy thought, that I may change my minde, Shall hate be fairer log'd then gentle loue ? Be as thy prefence is gracious and kind. Or to thy felfe at leaft kind harted proue. Make thee an other felfe for loue of me. That beauty ftill may Hue in thine or thee. 1 1 A S faft as thou fhalt wane fo faft thou grow'ft, "^In one of thine, from that which thou departeft. And that frefli bloud which yongly thou beftow'ft. Thou maift call thine, when thou from youth conuertest. Herein Hues wifdome, beauty, and increafe. Without this follie, age, and could decay. If all were minded fo, the times fhould ceafe, A.nd threefcoore yeare would make the world away : Let thofe whom nature hath not made for ftore, Harfh, featureleffe, and rude, barrenly perrilh, Looke whom fhe beft indqw'd, fhe gaue the more ; Which bountious guift thou fhouldft in bounty cherrifh. She caru'd thee for her feale, and ment therby. Thou fhouldft print more, not let that coppy die. 12 W 'Hen I doe count the clock that tels the time. And fee the braue day funck in hidious night. When I behold the violet paft prime. And fable curls or filuer'd ore with white : When lofty trees I fee barren of leaues. Which erft from heat did canopie the herd B 3 And Shake-speares And Sommers greene all girded vp in fheaues Borne on the beare with white and briftly beard : Then of thy beauty do I queftion make That thou among the waftes of time muft goe. Since fweets and beauties do them-felues forsake. And die as faft as they fee others grow. And nothing gainft Times fieth can make defence Saue breed to braue him, when he takes thee hence. /^ That you were your felfe, but loue you are No longer yours, then you your felfe here Hue, Againfb this cumming end you fhould prepare. And your sweet femblance to fome other giue. So fhould that beauty which you hold in leafe Find no determination, then you were You felfe again after your felfes deceafe. When your fweet ifTue your fweet forme fhould beare. Who lets fo faire a houie fall to decay. Which husbandry in honour might vphold, Againft the ftormy gufts of winters day And barren rage of deaths eternall cold ? O none but vnthrifts, deare my loue you know. You had a Father, let your Son fay fo. 14 "^TOt from the ftars do I my judgement plucke. And yet me thinkes I haue Aftronomy, But not to tell of good, or euil lucke. Of plagues, of dearths, or feafons quallity, Nor can I fortune to breefe mynuits tell ; Pointing to each his thunder, raine and winde. Or fay with Princes if it fhal go wel By oft predid; that I in heauen finde. But from thine eies my knowledge I deriue. And conftant ftars in them I read fuch art As truth and beautie fhal together thriue If from thy felfe, to ftore thou wouldft conuert : Or Sonnets. Or elfe of thee this J prognofticate, Thy end is Truthes and Beauties doome and date. 15 "VX/^Hen I consider euery thing that growes Holds in perfection but a little moment. That this huge ftage prefenteth nought but fhowes Whereon the Stars in fecret influence comment. When I perceiue that men as plants increafe, Cheared and checkt euen by the felfe-fame skie : Vaunt in their youthfull fap, at height decreafe. And were their braue ftate out of memory. Then the conceit of this inconftant ftay. Sets you moft rich in youth before my fight. Where waflfuU time debateth with decay To change your day of youth to fullied night, And all in war with Time for loue of you As he takes from you, I ingraft you new. 16 X? Vt wherefore do not you a mightier waie Make warre vppon this bloudie tirant time ? And fortifie your felf in your decay With means more bleffed then my barren rime ? Now ftand you on the top of happie houres. And many maiden gardens yet vnfet. With vertuous wifh would beare your lining flowers. Much liker then your painted counterfeit : So fliould the lines of life that life repaire Which this (Times penfel or my pupill pen) Neither in inward worth nor outward faire Can make you Hue your felfe in eies of men. To giue away your felfe, keeps your felfe ftill. And you mufl; liue drawne by your owne fweet skill, 17 "V^l/'Ho will beleeue my verfe in time to come If it were fild with your mofl high deferts ? B 4 Though Shake-speares Though yet heauen knowes it is but as a tombe Which hides your Hfe, and fhewes not halfe your parts : If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in frefh numbers number all your graces. The age to come would fay this Poet lies. Such heauenly touches nere toucht earthly faces. So fhould my papers (yellowed with their age) Be fcorrfd, like old men of leffe truth than tongue. And your true rights be termed a Poets rage. And ftretched miter of an Antique fong. But were fome childe of yours aliue that time. You fhould Hue twife in it, and in my rime. CHall I compare thee to a Summers day ? Thou art more louely and more temperate : Rough windes do fhake the darling buds of Maie, And Sommers leafe hath all too fhort a date : Sometime too hot the eye of heauen ftiines. And often is his gold complexion dimm'd. And euery faire from faire fome-time declines. By chance, or natures changing courfe vntrim'd : But thy eternall Sommer fhall not fade. Nor loofe poiFeffiion of that faire thou ow'ft. Nor fhall death brag thou wandr'ft in his fhade. When in eternall lines to time thou grow'ft. So long as men can breath or eyes can fee. So long Hues this, and this glues life to thee, 19 "F^Euouring time blunt thou the Lyons pawes. And make the earth deuoure her own fweet brood Plucke the keene teeth from the fierce Tygers yawes. And burne the long Hu'd Phasnix in her blood. Make glad and forry feafons as thou fleet'fl. And do what ere thou wilt fwift-footed time To the wide world and all her fading fweets : But I forbid thee one moft hainous crime, O Sonnets. O carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow, Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen. Him in thy courfe vntainted doe allow. For beauties patterne to fucceding men. Yet doe thy worft ould Time difpight thy wrong. My loue ftiall in my verfe euer Hue young. 20 A Womans face with natures owne hand painted, "^Hafte thou the Mafter Miftris of my paffion, A womans gentle hart but not acquainted With fhifting change as is falfe womens fafhion, An eye more bright then theirs, lefle falfe in rowling : Gilding the objeft v/here-vpon it gazeth, A man in hew all Hew! in his controwling, Which fteales mens eyes and womens foules amafeth. And for a woman wert thou first created. Till nature as fhe wrought thee fell a dotinge. And by addition me of thee defeated, By adding one thing to my purpofe nothing. But fmce Ihe prickt thee out for womens pleafure. Mine be thy loue and thy loues vfe their treafure. 21 CO is it not with me as with that Mufe, Stird by a painted beauty to his verfe. Who heauen it felfe for ornament doth vfe. And euery faire with his faire doth reherfe. Making a coopelment of proud compare With Sunne and Moone, with earth and feas rich gems : With A-prills firft borne flowers and all things rare. That heauens ayre in this huge rondure hems, O let me true in loue but truly write. And then beleeue me, my loue is as faire. As any mothers childe, though not fo bright As thofe gould candells fixt in heauens ayer : Let them fay more that like of heare-fay well, I will not prayfe that purpofe not to fell. C 22 Shake-speares 11 "[V/TY glafle fhall not perfwade me I am ould. So long as youth and thou are of one date. But when in thee times forrwes I behould. Then look I death my dales fhould expiate. For all that beauty that doth couer thee. Is but the feemely rayment of my heart. Which in thy breft doth Hue, as thine in me, How can I then be elder then thou art ? O therefore loue be of thy felfe fo wary. As I not for my felfe, but for thee will, Bearing thy heart which I will keepe fo chary As tender nurfe her babe from faring ill, Prefume not on thy heart when mine is flaine. Thou gau'ft me thine not to giue backe againe. 23 A S an vnperfedt a6tor on the ftage. Who with his feare is put befides his part. Or fome fierce thing repleat with too much rage, Whofe ftrengths abondance weakens his owne heart ; So I for feare of truft, forget to fay. The perfect ceremony of loues right. And in mine owne loues ftrength feeme to decay, Ore-charg'd with burthen of mine owne loues might : O let my books be. then the eloquence. And domb prefagers of my fpeaking breft. Who pleade for loue, and look for recompence. More then that tonge that more hath more expreft. O learne to read what filent loue hath writ. To heare wit eies belongs to loues fine wiht. 24 ■jyjlne eye hath play'd the painter and hath fteeld. Thy beauties forme in table of my heart. My body is the frame wherein ti's held. And perfpedtiue it is beft Painters art. For through the Painter muft you fee his skill, To Sonnets. To finde where your true Image pidlur'd lies. Which in my bofomes fhop is hanging ftil. That hath his windowes glazed with thine eyes : Now fee what good-turnes eyes for eies haue done. Mine eyes haue drawne thy fhape, and thine for me Are windowes to my breft, where-through the Sun Delights to peepe, to gaze therein on thee Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art They draw but what they fee, know not the hart. 25 T Et thofe who are in fauor with their ftars. Of publike honour and proud titles boft, Whilft I whome fortune of fuch tryumph bars Vnlookt for ioy in that I honour moft ; Great Princes fauorites their faire leaues fpread. But as the Mary gold at the funs eye. And in them-felues their pride lies buried. For at a frowne they in their glory die. The painefuU warrier famofed for worth. After a thoufand vidtories once foild. Is from the booke of honour rafed quite. And all the reft forgot for which he toild : Then happy I that loue and am beloued Where I may not remoue, nor be remoued. 26 T Ord of my loue, to whome in vaffalage Thy merrit hath my dutie ftrongly knit ; To thee I fend this written ambaffage To witneffe duty, not to fhew my wit. Duty fo great, which wit fo poore as mine May make feeme bare, in wanting words to fhew it ; But that I hope fome good conceipt of thine In thy foules thought (all naked) will beftow it : Til whatfoeuer ftar that guides my mouing. Points on me gratioufly with faire afped. And puts apparrell on my tottered louing, C 2 To Shake-speares, To fhow me worthy of their fweet refpecft. Then may I dare to boaft how I doe loue thee, Til then, not fhow my head where thou maift proueme. 27 'VXT'Eary with toyle, I haft me to my bed. The deare repofe for lims with trauaill tired. But then begins a iourny in my head To worke my mind, when boddies work's expired. For then my thoughts (from far where I abide) Intend a zelous pilgrimage to thee, And keepe my drooping eye-lids open wide. Looking on darknes which the blind doe fee. Saue that my foules imaginary fight Prefents their fhaddoe to my fightles view. Which like a iewell (hunge in gaftly night) Makes blacke night beautious and her old face new. Loe thus by day my lims, by night my mind. For thee, and for my felfe, noe quiet finde. 28 TLTOw can I then returne in happy plight That am debard the benifit of reft ? When dales oppreflion is not eazd by night. But day by night and night by day opreft. And each (though enimes to ethers raigne) Doe in confent fhake hands to torture me. The one by toyle, the other to complaine How far I toyle, ftill farther oiF from thee. I tell the Day to pleafe him thou art bright. And do'ft him grace when clouds doe blot the heauen : So flatter I the fwart complexiond night. When fparkling ftars twire not thou guil'ft th' eauen. But day doth daily draw my forrowes longer, (ftronger And night doth nightly make greefes length feeme. 29 "Y^^Y^Hen in difgrace with Fortune and mens eyes, I all alone beweepe my out-caft ftate. And Sonnets. And trouble deafe heauen with my bootlefle cries, And looke vpon my felfe and curie my fate. Wifhing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur'd like him, like him with friends pofleft, Defiring this mans art, and that mans skope, With what I moft inioy contented leaft. Yet in thefe thoughts my felfe almoft defpifmg, Haplye I thinke on thee, and then my ftate, (Like to the Larke at breake of daye arifing) From fullen earth fings himns at Heauen's gate, For thy fweet loue remembred fuch welth brings. That then I skorne to change my ftate with Kings. ^^TT/'Hen to the Seffions of fv/eet filent thought, I fommon vp remembrance of things paft, I figh the lacke of many a thing I fought. And with old woes new waile my deare times wafte : Then can I drowne an eye (vn-vf'd to flow) For precious friends hid in deaths dateles night. And weepe a frefh loues long fince canceld woe, A nd mone th'expence of many a vannifht fight. Then can I greeue at greeuances fore-gon. And heauily from woe to woe tell ore The fad account of fore-bemoned mone. Which I new pay as if not payd before. But if the while I thinke on thee (deare friend) All lofles are reftord, and forrowes end. '"phy bofome is indeared with all hearts ; Which I by lacking haue fuppofed dead. And there raignes Loue and all Loues louing parts. And all thofe friends which I thought buried. How many a holy and obfequious teare Hath deare religious loue ftolne from mine eye. As intereft of the dead, which now appeare. But things remou'd that hidden in there lie, C3 To Shake-speares Thou art the graue where buried loue doth Hue, Hung with the tropheis of my louers gon. Who all their parts of me to thee did giue. That due of many, now is thine alone. Their images I lou'd, I view in thee. And thou (all they) haft all the all of me. TF thou furuiue my well contented daie. When that churle death my bones with duft fhall couer And fhalt by fortune once more re-furuay : Thefe poore rude lines of thy deceafed Louer : Compare them with the bett'ring of the time. And though they be out-ftript by euery pen, Referue them for my loue, not for their rime. Exceeded by the hight of happier men. Oh then voutfafe me but this louing thought. Had my friends Mufe growne with this growing age, A dearer birth then this his loue had brought To march in ranckes of better equipage : But fince he died and Poets better proue, Theirs for their ftile ile read, his for his loue. 33 "pVlI many a glorious morning haue I feene, Flatter the mountaine tops with foueraine eie, Kiffing with golden face the meddowes greene ; Guilding pale ftreames with heauenly alcumy : Anon permit the bafeft cloudes to ride. With ougly rack on his celeftiall face. And from the for-lorne world his vifage hide Stealing vnfeene to west with this difgrace : Euen fo my Sunne one early morne did ftiine. With all triumphant fplendor on my brow. But out alack, he was but one houre mine. The region cloude hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this, my loue no whit difdaineth. Suns of the world may ftaine, whe heauens fun ftainteh. 34 Sonnets. 34 "\7"\7'ny didft thou promife inch a beautious day, And make me trauaile forth without my cloake, To let bace cloudes ore-take me in my way. Hiding thy brau'ry in their rotten fmoke. Tis not enough that through the cloude thou breake. To dry the raine on my ftorme- beaten face. For no man well of fuch a falue can fpeake. That heales the wound, and cures not the difgrace : Nor can thy fhame giue phificke to my griefe. Though thou repent, yet I haue ftill the loffe, Th' offenders forrow lends but weake reliefe To him that beares the ftrong offenfes loffe. Ah but thofe teares are pearle which thy loue fheeds, And they are ritch, and ranfome all ill deeds. 35 "^"O more bee greeu'd at that which thou haft done, Rofes haue thornes, and filuer fountaines mud, Cloudes and eclipfes ftaine both Moone and Sunne, And loathfome canker liues in fweeteft bud. All men make faults, and euen I in this. Authorizing thy trefpas with compare. My felfe corrupting faluing thy amiffe. Excusing their fins more then their fins are : For to thy fenfuall fault I bring in fence. Thy aduerfe party is thy Aduocate, And gainft my felfe a lawfull plea commence. Such ciuill war is in my loue and hate. That I an accefiary needs muft be. To that fweet theefe which fourely robs from me, 36 T Et me confeffe that we two muft be twaine, ■^Although our vndeuided loues are one : So ftiall thofe blots that do with me remaine. Without thy helpe, by me be borne alone. In our two loues there is but one refped. Though Shake-speares Though in our liues a feperable Tpight, Which though it alter not loues fole effedt. Yet doth it fteale fweet houres from loues delight, I may not euer-more acknowledge thee, Leaft my bewailed guilt fhould do thee fhame, Nor thou with publike kindneffe honour me, Vnlefle thou take that honour from thy name : But doe not fo, I loue thee in fuch fort. As thou being mine, mine is thy good report. 37 A S a decrepit father takes delight, To fee his a6tiue childe do deeds of youth. So I, made lame by Fortunes deareft fpight Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth. For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit. Or any of thefe all, or all, or more Intitled in their parts, do crowned fit, I make my loue ingrafted to this ftore : So then I am not lame, poore, nor difpif 'd, Whilft that this fhadow doth fuch fubftance giue. That I in thy abundance am fufEc'd, And by a part of all thy glory Hue : Looke what is beft, that beft I wifh in thee. This wifh I haue, then ten times happy me. 38 ILTOw can my Mufe want fubiecfl to inuent While thou doft breath that poor'ft into my verfe, Thine owne fweet argument, to excellent. For euery vulgar paper to rehearfe : Oh giue thy felfe the thankes if ought in me. Worthy perufal ftand againft thy fight. For who's fo dumbe that cannot write to thee. When thou thy felfe doft giue inuention light ? Be thou the tenth Mufe, ten times more in worth Then thole old nine which rimers inuocate. And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternall Sonnets. Eternal numbers to out-liue long date. If my flight Mufe doe pleafe thefe curious daies. The paine be mine, but thine fliall be the praife. 39 jH how thy worth with manners may I finge. When thou art all the better part of me ? What can mine owne praife to mine owne felfe bring ; And what is't but mine owne when I praife thee, Euen for this, let vs deuided Hue, And our deare loue loofe name of fingle one. That by this feperation I may giue : That due to thee which thou deferu'ft alone : Oh abfence what a torment wouldft thou proue, Were it not thy foure leifure gaue fweet leaue. To entertaine the time with thoughts of loue, Which time and thoughts fo fweetly doft deceiue. And that thou teacheft how to make one twaine, By praifing him here who doth hence remaine. 40 npAke all my loues, my loue, yea take them all. What haft thou then more then thou hadft before ? No loue, my loue, that thou maift true loue call. All mine was thine, before thou hadft this more : Then if for my loue, thou my loue receiueft, I cannot blame thee, for my loue thou vfeft. But yet be blam'd, if thou this felfe deceaueft By wilfull tafte of what thy felfe refufeft. I doe forgiue thy robb'rie gentle theefe Although thou fteale thee all my pouerty : And yet loue knowes it is a greater griefe To beare loues wrong, then hates knowne iniury. Lafciuious grace, in whom all il wel fliowes. Kill me with fpights yet we muft not be foes. 41 ' I ^Hofe pretty wrongs that liberty commits. When I am fome-time abfent from thy heart, D Thv Shake-speares. Thy beautie, and thy yeares full well befits. For ftill temptacion foUowes where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be wonne, Beautious thou art, therefore to be aflailed. And when a woman woes, what womans fonne. Will fourely leaue her till he haue preuailed. Aye me, but yet thou mighft my feate forbeare. And chide thy beauty, and thy ftraying youth. Who lead thee in their ryot euen there Where thou are forft to breake a two-fold truth : Hers by thy beauty tempting Pier to thee. Thine by thy beautie beeing falfe to me. 42 ^Hat thou haft her it is not all my griefe. And yet it may be faid I lou'd her deerely. That ftie hath thee is of my wayling cheefe, A loffe in loue that touches me more neerely. Louing ofFendors thus I will excufe yee. Thou dooft loue her, becaufe thou knowft I loue her. And for my fake euen fo doth ftie abufe me, Suffring my friend for my fake to approoue her. If I loofe thee, my loffe is my loues gaine. And loofing her, my friend hath found that loffe. Both finde each other, and I loofe both twaine. And both for my fake lay on me this croffe. But here's the ioy, my friend and I are one, Sweete flattery, then fhe loues but me alone. 43 "V^Hen moft I winke then doe mine eyes beft fee. For all the day they view things vnrefpefted. But when I fleepe, in dreames they looke on thee. And darkely bright, are bright in darke direfted. Then thou whofe fhaddow fhaddowes doth make bright. How would thy fhaddowes forme, forme happy fhow, To the cleere day with thy much cleerer light. When to vn-feeing eyes thy fhade fhines fo ? How Sonnets. How would (I fay) mine eyes be bleffed made. By looking on thee in the liuing day ? When in dead night their faire imperfedt fhade. Through heauy fleepe on fightlefTe eyes doth ftay ? All dayes are nights to fee till I fee thee. And nights bright dales when dreams do fhew thee me. 44 TF the dull fubftance of my flefh were thought, Iniurious diftance fhould not flop my way. For then difpight of fpace I would be brought. From limits farre remote, where thou dooft ftay, No matter then although my foote did ftand Vpon the fartheft earth remoou'd from thee. For nimble thought can iumpe both fea and land. As foone as thinke the place where he would be. But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought To leape large lengths of miles when thou art gone. But that fo much of earth and water wrought, I muft attend, times leafure with my mone. Receiuing naughts by elements fo floe. But heauie teares, badges of eithers woe. 45 npHe other two, flight ayre, and purging fire. Are both with thee, where euer I abide. The firft my thought, the other my defire, Thefe prefent abfent with fwift motion flide. For when thefe quicker Elements are gone In tender Embaffie of loueto thee. My life being made of foure, with two alone, Sinkes downe to death, oppreft with melancholie. Vntill Hues compofition be recured. By thofe fwift meflengers return'd from thee. Who euen but now come back againe afl"ured. Of their faire health, recounting it to me. This told, I ioy, but then no longer glad, I fend them back againe and ftraight grow fad. D 2 Mine Shake-speares. 46 ]V/TIne eye and heart are at a mortall war re. How to deuide the conqueft of thy fight, Mine eye, my heart their piftures fight would barre. My heart, mine eye the freeedome of that right. My heart doth plead that thou in him dooft lye, (A clofet neuer pearft with chriftall eyes) But the defendant doth that plea deny. And fayes in him their faire appearance lyes. To fide this title is impannelled A queft of thoughts, all tennants to the heart, And by their verdidt is determined The cleere eyes moyitie, and the deare hearts pait. As thus, mine eyes due is their outward part. And my hearts right, their inward loue of heart. 47 TJEtwixt mine eye and heart a league is tooke. And each doth good turnes now vnto the other. When that mine eye is famifht for a looke. Or heart in loue with fighes himfelfe doth fmother ; With my loues pidture then my eye doth feaft, And to the painted banquet bids my heart : An other time mine eye is my hearts gueft. And in his thoughts of loue doth fhare a part. So either by thy pidture or my loue. Thy feife away, are prefent ftill with me. For thou nor farther then my thoughts canft moue. And I am fhill with them, and they with thee. Or if they fleepe, thy pidture in my fight Awakes my heart, to hearts and eyes delight. 48 prOw careful! was I when I tooke my way. Each trifle vnder trueft barres to thrufl. That to my vfe it might vn-vfed flay From hands of falfehood, in fure wards of trufl ? But thou, to whom my iewels trifles are, Mofl Sonnets. Moft worthy comfort, now my greateft griefe. Thou beft of deereft, and mine onely care. Art left the prey of euery vulgar theefe. Thee haue I not lockt vp in any cheft, Saue where thou art not though I feele thou art, "Within the gentle clofure of my breft, From whence at pleafure thou maift come and part, And euen thence thou wilt be ftolne I feare. For truth prooues theeuifh for a prize fo deare. 49 A Gainft that time (if euer that time come) When I fhall fee thee frowne on my defeats. When as thy loue hath caft his vtmoft fumme, Cauld to that audite by aduif'd refpedts, Againft that time when thou ftialt ftrangely paffe. And fcarcely greete me with that funne thine eye. When loue conuerted from the thing it was Shall reafons finde of fetled grauitie. Againft that time do I infconce me here Within the knowledge of mine owne defart. And this my hand, againft my felfe vpreare. To guard the lawfuU reafons on thy part. To leaue poore me, thou haft the ftrength of lawes. Since why to loue, I can alledge no caufe. 5° T-JOw heauie doe I iourney on the way. When what I feeke (my wearie trauels end) Doth teach that eafe and that repofe to fay Thus farre the miles are meafurde from thy friend. The beaft that beares me, tired with my woe. Plods duly on, to beare that waight in me. As if by fome inftindl the wretch did know His rider lou'd not fpeed being made from thee : The bloody fpurre cannot prouoke him on, That fome-times anger thrufts into his hide. Which heauily he anfwers with a grone, D 3 More Shake-speares. More fharpe to me then fpurring to his fide. For that fame grone doth put this in my mind. My greefe lies onward and my ioy behind. 51 nPHus can my loue excufe the flow offence. Of my dull bearer, when from thee I fpeed. From where thou art, why fhoulld I halt me thence, Till I returne of pofting is noe need. O what excufe will my poore beaft then find. When fwift extremity can feeme but flow. Then fhould I fpurre though mounted on the wind , In winged fpeed no motion fhall I know. Then can no horfe with my defire keepe pace. Therefore defire (of perfefts loue being made^ Shall naigh noe dull flefh in his fiery race. But loue, for loue, thus fhall excufe my iade, Since from thee going he went wilfull flow. Towards thee ile run, and giue him leaue to goe. CO am I as the rich whofe bleffed key, Can bring him to his fweet vp-locked treafure. The which he will not eu'ry hower furuay. For blunting the fine point of feldome pleaure. Therefore are feafhs fo follemne and fo rare, Since fildom comming in the long yeare fet. Like ftones of worth they thinly placed are. Or captaine lewells in the carconet. So is the time that keepes you as my cheft. Or as the ward-robe which the robe doth hide. To make fome fpeciall inftant fpeciall bleft. By new vnfoulding his imprifon'd pride. Bleffed are you whofe worthineffe glues skope. Being had to tryumph, being lackt to hope. S3 \7'\^Hat is your fubftance, whereof are you made. That millions of fl;range fhaddowes on you tend ? Sonnets. Since euery one, hath euery one, one fhade. And you but one, can euery fliaddow lend : Defcribe Adonis and the counterfet. Is poorely immitated after you. On Hellens cheeke all art of beautie fet. And you in Grecian tires are painted new : Speake of the fpring, and foyzon of the yeare, The one doth fhaddow of your beautie fhow. The other as your bountie doth appeare. And you in euery blefled ftiape we know. In all external! grace you haue fome part. But you like none, none you for conftant heart. 54 |H how much more doth beautie beautious feeme. By that fweet ornament which truth doth giue, The Rofe lookes faire, but fairer we it deeme For that fweet odor, which doth in it Hue : The Canker-bloomes haue full as deepe a die, As the perfumed tinfture of the Rofes, Hang on fuch thornes, and play as wantonly. When fommers breath their masked buds difclofes : But for their virtue only is their fhow. They liue vnwoo'd, and unrefpedted fade. Die to themfelues . Sweet Rofes doe not fo. Of their fweet deathes, are fweeteft odors made : And fo of you, beautious and louely youth. When that fhall vade, by verfe diftils your truth. 55 "^JOt marble, nor the guilded monument. Of Princes fhall out-liue this powrefull rime. But you fhall fhine more bright in thefe contents Then vnfwept ftone, befmeer'd with fluttifh time. When waftefull warre fhall Statues ouer-turne. And broiles roote out the worke of mafonry. Nor Mars his fword, nor warres quick fire fhall burne : The liuing recoi'd of your memory. Gainft Shake-speares. Gainft death, and all obliuious emnity Shall you pace forth, your praife ftiall ftil finde roomfe, Euen in the eyes of all pofterity That weare this world out to the ending doome. So til the iudgement that your felfe arife. You Hue in this, and dwell in louers eies. 5 ft Qweet loue renew thy force , be it not faid '^Thy edge fhould blunter be then apetlte. Which but too daie by feeding is alaied. To morrow fharpned in his former might. So loue be thou, although too daie thou fill Thy hungrie eies, euen till they winck with fulneffe. Too morrow fee againe, and doe not kill The fpirit of Loue, with a perpetual dulneffe : Let this fad Intrim like the Ocean be Which parts the fhore, where two contracted new. Come daily to the banckes, that when they fee ; Returne of loue, more bleft may be the view. As cal it Winter, which being ful of care. Makes Somers welcome, thrice more wifh'd, more rare ; 57 T3Eing your flaue what fhould I doe but tend, Vpon the houres, and times of your defire ? I haue no precious time at al to fpend ; Nor feruices to doe til you require. Nor dare I chide the world without end houre, Whilfl: I (my foueraine) watch the clock for you. Nor thinke the bitterneffe of abfence fowre. When you haue bid your feruant once adieue. Nor dare I queftion with my ieallous thought. Where you may be, or your affaires fuppofe. But like a fad flaue ftay and thinke of nought Saue where you are, how happy you make thofe. So true a foole is loue, that in your Will, (Though you doe any thing) he thinkes no ill. 58 Sonnets. 58 '"pHat God forbid, that made me firft your flaue, I fhould in thought controule your times of pleasure Or at your hand th' account of houres to craue. Being your vafTail bound to ftaie your leifure. Oh let me fuffer (being at your beck) Th' imprifon'd abfence of your Hbertie, And patience tame, to fufferance bide each check, Without accufing you of iniury. Be where you lift, your charter is fo ftrong, That you your felfe may priuiledge your time To what you will, to you it doth belong, Your felfe to pardon of felfe-doing crime. -^ I am to waite, though waiting fo be hell. Not blame your pleafure be it ill or well. T F their bee nothing new, but that which is. Hath beene before, how are our braines beguild. Which laboring for inuention beare amiffe The fecond burthen of a former child .'' Oh that record could with a back-ward looke, Euen of fiue hundreth courfes of the Sunne, Show me your image in fome antique booke. Since minde at firft in carredler was done. That I might fee what the old world could fay, To this compofed wonder of your frame. Whether we are mended, or where better they. Or whether reuolution be the fame. Oh fure I am the wits of former dales. To fubiedls worfe haue giuen admiring praife. 60 Like as the wanes make towards the pibled fhore. So do our minuites haften to their end. Each changing place with that which goes before. In fequent toile all forwards do contend. Natuity once in the maine of light. E Crawls Shake-speares Crawles to maturity, wherewith being crown' d. Crooked eclipfes gainft his glory fight. And time that gaue, doth now his gift confound. Time doth tranffixe the florifh fet on youth, And delues the paralels in beauties brow, Feedes on the rarities of natures truth. And nothing ftands but for his fieth to mow. And yet to times in hope, my verfe fhall ftand Praifing thy worth, difpight his cruell hand. 6i TS it thy wil, thy Image fhould keepe open My heauy eielids to the weary night ? Doft thou defire my {lumbers fhould be broken, While fhadowes like to thee do mocke my fight ? Is it thy fpirit that thou fend'ft from thee So farre from home into my deeds to prye, To find out fhames and idle houres in me. The skope and tenure of thy leloufie ? O no, thy loue though much, is not fo great. It is my loue that keepes mine eie awake. Mine owne true loue that doth my reft defeat. To plaie the watch-man euer for my fake. For thee watch I, whilft thou doft wake elfewhere. From me farre of, with others all to neere. 62 CInne of felfe-loue poffeffeth al mine eie. And all my foule, and al my euery part ; And for this finne there is no remedie. It is fo grounded inward in my heart. Me thinkes no face fo gratious is as mine. No ftiape fo true, no truth of fuch account. And for my felfe mine owne worth to define. As I all other in all worths furmount. But when my glafle ftiewes me my felfe indeed Beated and chopt with tand antiquitie. Mine owne felfe loue quite contrary I read Selfe Sonnets. Selfe, fo felfe louing were iniquity, T'is thee (my felfe) that for my felfe I praife, Painting my age with beauty of thy dales. 63 A Gainft my loue Ihall be as I am now With times iniurious hand chrufht and ore-worne. When houres haue dreind his blood and fild his brow With lines and wrincles, when his youthfull morne Hath trauaild on to Ages fteepie night. And all thofe beauties whereof now he's King Are vanishing, or vanifht out of fight. Stealing away the treafure of his Spring. For fuch a time do I now fortifie Againft confounding Ages cruell knife. That he Ihall neuer cut from memory My fweet loues beauty, though my louers life. His beautie fhall in these blacke lines be feene. And they fhall liue, and he in them ftill greene. 64 'VT'^^/'Hen I haue feene by times fell hand defaced The rich proud coft of outworne buried age, When fometime loftie towers I fee downe rafed, And brafle eternall flaue to mortall rage. When I haue feene the hungry Ocean gaine Aduantage on the Kingdom e of the fhoare. And the firme foile win of the watry maine, Increafing ftore with lofle, and loffe with ftore. When I haue feene fuch interchange of ftate, Or ftate it felfe confounded, to decay, Ruine hath taught me thus to ruminate That Time will come and take my loue away. This thought is as a death which cannot choofe But weepe to haue, that which it feares to loofe. CInce braffe, nor ftone, nor earth, nor boundlefle fea, But fad mortallity ore-fwaies their power, E 1 How Shake-speares How with this rage fhall beautie hold a plea, Whofe aftion is no flronger then a flower ? O how fhall fummers hunny breath hold out, Againft the wrackfull fiedge of battring dayes. When rocks impregnable are not fo ftoute, Nor gates of fteele fo ftrong but time decayes ? O fearefull meditation, where alack, Shall times beft lewell from times cheft lie hid ? Or what ftrong hand can hold his fwift foote back. Or who his fpoile or beautie can forbid ? O none, vnlefTe this miracle haue might. That in black inck my loue may ftill ftiine bright. 66 'X'Yr'd with all thefe for reftfull death I cry, As to behold defert a begger borne. And needie Nothing trimd in iollitie. And pureft faith vnhappily forfworne. And gilded honor ftiamefuUy mifplaft. Arid maiden vertue rudely ftrumpeted. And right perfeftion wrongfully difgrac'd. And ftrength by limping fway difabled. And arte made tung-tide by authoritie, And Folly (Doftor-like) controuling skill. And fimple- Truth mifcalde Simplicitie, And captiue-good attending Captaine ill. Tyr'd with all thefe, from thefe would I be gone ; Saue that to dye, I leaue my loue alone, 67 AH wherefore with infedtion fhould he liue, And with his prefence grace impietie. That finne by him aduantage fhould atchiue, And lace it felfe with his focietie ? Why fhould falfe painting immitate his cheeke, And fleale dead feeing his ofliuing hew ? Why fhould poore beautie indirectly feeke, Rofes of fhaddow, fince his Rofe is true ? Why Sonnets. Why fhould he Hue, now nature banckrout is, Beggerd of blood to blufh through liuely vaines, For £he hath no exchecker now but his. And proud of many. Hues vpon his gaines ? O him fhe ftores, to fhow what welth fhe had, In dales long fmce, before thefe laft fo bad. 68 T Hus is his cheeke the map of dales out-worne. When beauty liu'd and dy'ed as flowers do now. Before thefe baftard fignes of faire were borne. Or durft inhabit on a liuing brow : Before the goulden trefles of the dead. The right of fepulchers, were fhorne away. To Hue a fecond life on fecond head. Ere beauties dead fleece made another gay : In him thofe holy antique howers are feene. Without all ornament, it felfe and true. Making no fummer of an others greene. Robbing no ould to drefle his beauty new. And him as for a map doth Nature ftore. To fhew faulfe Art what beauty was of yore. 6g 'T^Hofe parts of thee that the worlds eye doth view. Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend : All toungs (the voice of foules) giue thee that end, Vttring bare truth, euen fo as foes Commend. Their outward thus with outward praife is crownd. But thofe fame toungs that giue thee fo thine owne. In other accents doe this praife confound By feeing farther then the eye hath fhowne. They looke into the beauty of thy mind. And that in guefle they meafure by thy deeds. Then churls theirthoughts (although their eies were kind) To thy faire flower ad the rancke fmell of weeds. But why thy odor matcheth not thy fhow. The foyle is this, that thou doeft common grow. E 3 That Shake-speares 70 'T'Hat thou are blam'd ftiall not be thy defedt, -'■ For Handers marke was euer yet the faire. The ornament of beauty is fufpedt, A Crow that flies in heauens fweeteft ayre. So thou be good, flander doth but approue. Their worth the greater beeing woo'd of time. For Canker vice the fweeteft buds doth loue. And thou prefent'ft a pure vnftayined prime. Thou haft paft by the ambufh of young daies. Either not aflayld, or vi6tor beeing charg'd. Yet this thy praife cannot be {oe thy praife. To tye vp enuy, euermore inlarged. If fome fufpedt of ill maskt not thy fhow. Then thou alone kingdomes of hearts fhouldft owe. 71 "^fOe Longer mourne for me when I am dead. Then thou fhall heare the furly fullen bell Giue warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world with vildeft wormes to dwell : Nay if you read this line, remember not. The hand that writ it, for I loue you fo. That I in your fweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then fhould make you woe. O if (I {zyj you looke vpon this verie. When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay, Do not fo much as my poore name reherfe ; But let your loue euen with my life decay. Left the wife world fhould looke into your mone. And mocke you with me after I am gon. 72 Q Leaft the world fliould taske you to recite. What merit liu'd in me that you fhould loue After my death (^deare loue^ for get me quite. For you in me can nothing worthy proue. Vnlefle you would deuife fome vertuous lye. To Son NETS. To doe more for me then mine owne defert. And hang more praife vpon deceafed I, Then nigard truth would willingly impart : O leaft your true loue may feeme falce in this. That yuo for loue fpeake well of me vntrue. My name be buried where my body is. And Hue no more to fhame nor me, nor you. For I am fliamd by that which I bring forth. And fo fhould you, to loue things nothing worth. 73 'X'Hat time of yeeare thou maift in me behold. When yellow leaues, or none, or few doe hange Vpon thofe boughes which fhake againft the could. Bare rn'wd quiers, where late the fweet birds fang. In me thou feeft the twi-light of fuch day. As after Sun-fet fadeth in the Weft, Which by and by blacke night doth take away, Deaths fecond felfe that feals vp all in reft. In me thou feeft the glowing of fuch fire. That on the afhes of his youth doth lye. As the death bed, whereon it muft expire, Confum'd with that which it was nurrifht by. This thou perceu'ft, which makes thy loue more ftrong, To loue that well, which thou muft leaue ere long. 74 T> Vt be contented when that fell areft. With out all bayle fhall carry me away. My life hath in this line fome intereft, Which for memoriall ftill with thee ftiall ftay. When thou reueweft this, thou doeft reuew, The very part was confecrate to thee. The earth can haue but earth, which is his due, My fpirit is thine the better part of me, So then thou haft but loft the dregs of life, The pray of wormes, my body being dead. The coward conqueft of a wretches knife, To Shake-speares To bafe of thee to be remembred. The worth of that, is that which it containes. And that is this, and this with thee remaines. 75 CO are you to my thoughts as food to life. Or as fweet feafon'd fhewers are to the ground ; And for the peace of you I hold fuch ftrife. As twixt a mifer and his wealth is found. Now proud as an inioyer, and anon Doubting the filching age will fteale his treafure, Now counting beft to be with you alone. Then betterd that the world may fee my pleafure, Some-time all ful with feafting on your fight, And by and by cleane ftarued for a looke, Poffeffing or purfuing no delight Saue what is had, or muft from you be tooke. Thus do I pine and furfet day by day. Or gluttoning on all, or all away, 76 "VT'XT'Hy is my verfe fo barren of new pride ? So far from variation or quicke change ? Why with the time do I not glance afide To new found methods, and to compounds ftrange ? Why write I fl:ill all one, euer the fame. And keepe inuention in a noted weed. That euery word doth almoft fel my name. Shewing their birth, and where they did proceed ? O know fweet loue I alwaies write of you. And you and loue are ftOl my argument : So all my beft is dreffing old words new. Spending againe what is already fpent : For as the Sun is daily new and old. So is my loue ftill telling what is told, 77 'npHy glafle will fhew thee how thy beauties were. Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits wafte. The Sonnets, The vacant leaues thy mindes imprint will beare. And of this booke, this learning maift thou tafte. The wrinckles which thy glafle will truly Ihow, Of mouthed graues will giue thee memorie. Thou by thy dyals fhady Health maift know. Times theeuifh progrelTe to eternitie. Looke what thy memorie cannot containe. Commit to thefe wafte blacks, and thou fhalt finde Thofe children nurft, deliuerd from thy braine. To take a new acquaintance of thy minde. Thefe offices, fo oft as thou wilt looke. Shall profit thee, and much inrich thy booke. 78 CO oft haue I inuok'd thee for my Mufe, A.nd found fuch faire affiftance in my verfe, As euery Alien pen hath got my vfe. And vnder thee their poefie difperfe. Thine eyes, that taught the dumbe on high to ling, And heauie ignorance aloft to flee, Haue added fethers to the learneds wing. And giuen grace a double Maieftie. Yet be moft proud of that which I compile, Whofe influence is thine, and borne of thee. In others workes thou dooft but mend the ftile. And Arts with thy fweete graces graced be. But thou art all my art, and dooft aduance As high as learning, my rude ignorance. 79 "07 Hilft I alone did call vpon thy ayde. My verfe alone had all thy gentle grace. But now my gracious numbers are decayde. And my fick Mufe doth giue an other place. I grant (fweet loue^ thy louely argument Deferues the trauaile of a worthier pen. Yet what of thee thy Poet doth inuent. He robs thee of, and payes it thee againe, F He Shake-speares He lends thee vertue, and he ftole that word. From thy behaulour, beautie doth he giue And found it in thy cheeke : he can affoord No praife to thee, but what in thee doth liue. Then thanke him not for that which he doth fay. Since what he owes thee, thou thy felfe dooft pay. o 80 How I faint when I of you do write. Knowing a better fpirit doth vfe your name. And in the praife thereof fpends all his might. To make me toung-tide fpeaking of your fame. But fince your worth ('wide as the Ocean is^ The humble as the proudeft faile doth beare. My fawfie barke ('inferior farre to his^ On your broad maine doth wilfully appeare. Your fhalloweft helpe will hold me vp a floate, Whilft he vpon your foundleffe deepe doth ride. Or (being wrackt^ I am a worthleffe bote. He of tall building, and of goodly pride. Then If he thriue and I be caft away. The worft was this, my loue was my decay. /^R I ihall liue your Epitaph to make, ^^Or you furuiue when I in earth am rotten. From hence your memory death cannot take. Although in me each part will be forgotten. Your name from hence immortall life fhall haue, Though I ('once gone) to all the world muft dye. The earth can yeeld me but a common graue. When you intombed in mens eyes fhall lye. Your monument ftiall be my gentle verfe. Which eyes not yet created ftiall ore-read. And toungs to be, your beeing ftiall rehearfe. When all the breathers of this world are dead. You ftill fhall liue (fuch vertue hath my Pen) Where breath moft breaths, euenin the mouths of men. I grant Sonnets. 82 T Grant thou wert not married to my Mufe, And therefore maieft without attaint ore-looke The dedicated words which writers vfe Of their faire fubiedl, blefling euery booke. Thou art as faire in knowledge as in hew. Finding thy worth a limmit paft my praife. And therefore art inforc'd to feeke anew, Some frefher ftampe of the time bettering dayes. And do fo loue, yet when they haue deuifde, What ftrained touches Rhethorick can lend, Thou truly faire, wert truly fimpathizde, In true plaine words, by thy true telling friend. And their grofle painting might be better vf'd. Where cheekes need blood, in thee it is abuf'd. T Neuer faw that you did painting need. And therefore to your faire no painting fet, I found (or thought I found) you did exceed. The barren tender of a Poets debt : And therefore haue I flept in your report, That you your felfe being extant well might fhow, How farre a moderne quill doth come to fhort. Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow. This filence for my finne you did impute. Which ftiall be moft my glory being dombe. For I impaire not beautie being mute. When others would giue life, and bring a tombe. There Hues more life in one of your faire eyes. Then both your Poets can in praife deuife. 84 TTS^Ho is it that fayes moft, which can fay more. Then this rich praife, that you alone, are you. In whofe confine immured is the ftore. Which fhould example where your equall grew, Leane penurie within that Pen doth dwell, F 2 That Shake-speares That to his fubiedt lends not fome fmall glory. But he that writes of you, if he can tell. That you are you, fo dignifies his ftory. Let him but coppy what in you is writ. Not making worfe what nature made fo cleere. And fuch a counter-part fhall fame his wit. Making his ftile admired euery where. You to your beautious bleflings adde a curfe. Being fond on praife, which makes your praifes worfe. 85 T\TY toung-tide Mufe in manners holds her ftill, "'■While comments of your praife richly compil'd, Referue their Chara6ter with goulden quill. And precious phrafe by all the Mufes fil'd. I thinke good thoughts, whilft other write good wordes. And like vnlettered clarke ftill crie Amen, To euery Himne that able fpirit affords, In polifht forme of well refined pen. Hearing you praifd, I fay 'tis fo, 'tis true. And to the moft of praife adde fome-thing more, But that is in my thought, whofe loue to you (Though words come hind-moft^ holds his ranke before, Then others, for the breath of words refpecft. Me for my dombe thoughts, fpeaking in effeft. 86 VV^ 'As it the proud full faile of his great verle. Bound for the prize of (all to precious) you, That did my ripe thoughts in my braine inhearce. Making their tombe the wombe wherein they grew ? Was it his fpirit, by fpirits taught to write, Aboue a mortall pitch, that ftruck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compiers by night Gluing him ayde, my verfe aftonifhed. He nor that affable familiar ghoft Which nightly gulls him with intelligence. As viftors of my filence cannot boaft, I was Sonnets. I was not fick of any feare from thence. But when your countinance fild vp his line. Then lackt I matter, that infeebled mine. 87 "U^Arewell thou art too deare for my pofTeffing, And like enough thou knowft thy eftimate. The Charter of thy worth giues thee releafing : My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting. And for that ritches where is my deferuing ? The caufe of this faire guift in me is wanting. And fo my pattent back againe is fweruing. Thy felfethou gau'ft, thy owne worth then not knowing, Or mee to whom thou gau'ft it, elfe miftaking. So thy great guift vpon mifprifion growing. Comes home againe, on better iudgement making. Thus haue I had thee as a dreame doth flatter. In fleepe a King, but waking no fuch matter. "X 7"\/'Hen thou fhalt be difpode to fet me light. And place my merrit in the eie of skorne, Vpon thy fide, againft my felfe ile fight. And proue thee virtuous, though thou art forfworne : With mine owne weakenefle being beft acquainted, Vpon thy part I can fet downe a ftory Of faults conceald, wherein I am attainted : That thou in loofing me fhall win much glory ; And I by this wil be a gainer too. For bending all my louing thoughts on thee. The iniuries that to my felfe I doe. Doing thee vantage, duble vantage me. Such is my loue, to thee I fo belong. That for thy right, my felfe will beare all wrong, 89 CAy that thou didft forfake mee for fome fait. And I will comment vpon that offence, F 3 The Shake-speares Speake of my kmeneffe, and I ftraight will halt : Againft thy reafons making no defence. Thou canft not floue) difgrace me halfe fo ill. To fet a forme vpon defired change. As ile my!_felfe difgrace, knowing thy wil, I will acquaintance ftrangle and looke ftrange : Be abfent from thy walkes and in my tongue. Thy fweet beloued name no more fhall dwell, Leaft I (too much prophane) fhould do it wronge : And haplie of our old acquaintance tell. For thee, againft my feelfe ile vow debate. For I muft nere loue him whom thou doft hate. 90 '"PHen hate me when thou wilt, if euer, now. Now while the world is bent my deeds to crofle, loyne with the fpight of fortune, make me bow. And doe not drop in for an after loffe ; Ah doe not, when my heart hath fcapte this forrow. Come in the rereward of a conquerd woe, Giue not a windy night a rainie morrow. To linger out a purpofd ouer-throw. If thou wilt leaue me, do not leaue me laft. When other pettie griefes haue done their fpight. But in the onfet come, fo ftall I tafte At firft the very worft of fortunes might. And other ftraines of woe, which now feeme woe, Compar'd with lofle of thee, will not feeme fo. COme glory in their birth, fome in their skill, Some in their wealth, fome in their bodies force, Some in their garments though new-fangled ill : Some in their Hawkes and Hounds, fome in their Horfe. And euery humor hath his adiun6t pleafure. Wherein it findes a ioy aboue the reft. But thefe perticulers are not my meafure. All thefe I better in one generall beft. Thy i t Sonnets. Thy loue is bitter then high birth to me. Richer then wealth, prouder then garments coft, Of more delight then Hawkes or Horfes bee : And hauing thee, of all mens pride I boaft. Wretched in this alone, that thou maift take, All this away, and me moft wretched make. 92 T> Vt doe thy worft to fteale thy felfe away, For tearme of life thou art affured mine. And life no longer then thy loue will ftay. For it depends vpon that loue of thine. Then need I not to feare the worft of wrongs. When in the leaft of them my life hath end, I fee, a better ftate to me belongs Then that, which on thy humor doth depend. Thou canft not vex me with inconftant minde. Since that my life on thy reuolt doth lie. Oh what a happy title do I finde, Happy to haue thy loue, happy to die ! But whats fo blefled faire that feares no blot. Thou maift be fake, and yet I know it not. 93 CO ftiall I Hue, fuppofing thou art true. Like a deceiued husband, fo loues face, May ftill feeme loue to me, though alter'd new : Thy lookes with me, thy heart in other place. For their can liue no hatred in thine eye. Therefore in that I cannot know thy change. In manies lookes, the fake hearts hiftory Is writ in moods and frounes and wrinckles ftrange. But heauen in thy creation did decree. That in thy face fweet loue fhould euer dwell. What ere thy thoughts, or thy hearts workings be. Thy lookes fhould nothing thence, but fweetne/Te telf. How like Eaues apple doth thy beauty grow. If thy fweet vertue anfwere not thy fhow. 94 Shake-speares 94 'T'Hey that haue powre to hurt, and will doe none. That doe not do the thing, they moft do (howe. Who mouing others, are themfelues as ftone, Vnmooued, could, and to temptation flow : They rightly do inherrit heauens graces. And husband natures ritches from expence. They are the Lords and owners of their faces. Others, but ftewards of their excellence : The fommers flowre is to the fommer fweet. Though to it felfe, it onely liue and die. But if that flowre with bafe infedtion meete. The bafeft weed out-braues his dignity : For fweetefl; things turne fowrefl; by their deedes, Lillies that fefl:er, fmell far worfe then weeds. 95 XJOw fweet and louely dofl: thou make the fliame. Which like a canker in the fragrant Rofe, Doth fpot the beautie of thy budding name ? Oh in what fweets doefl: thou thy finnes inclofe ! That tongue that tells the ftory of thy daies, (Making lafciuious comments on thy fport) Cannot difpraife, but in a kinde of praife, Naming thy name, blefles an ill report. Oh what a manfion haue thofe vices got, Which for their habitation chofe out thee. Where beauties vaile doth couer euery blot, And all things turnes to faire, that eies can fee ! Take heed (^deare heart) of this large priuiledge. The hardefl; knife ill vCd doth loofe his edge. 96 COme fay thy fault is youth, fome wantonefle, Some lay thy grace is youth and gentle fport, Both grace and faults are lou'd of more and lefle : Thou makfl: faults graces, that to thee refort : As on the finger of a throned Queene, The Sonnets. The bafeft lewell wil be well efteemed : So are thofe errors that in thee are feene. To truths tranflated, and for true things deem'd. How many Lambs might the fterne Wolfe betray. If like a Lambe he could his lookes tranflate. How many gazers mighft thou lead away, If thou wouldft vfe the ftrength of all thy ftate ? But doe not fo^ I loue thee in fuch fort. As thou being mine, mine is thy good report. 97 X-TOw like a Winter hath my abfence beene From thee, the pleafure of the fleeting yeare ? What freezings haue I felt, what darke dales feene ? What old Decembers bareneffe euery where ? And yet this time remou'd was fommers time, The teeming Autumne big with ritch increafe, Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime. Like widdowed wombes after their Lords deceafe : Yet this aboundant iflue feem'd to me. But hope of Orphans, and vn-fathered fruite. For Sommer and his pleafures waite on thee. And thou away, the very birds are mute. Or if they fing, tis with fo dull a cheere. That leaues'looke pale, dreading the Winters neere. 98 "pRom you haue I beene abfent in the fpring. When proud pide Aprill (dreft in all his trim) Hath put a fpirit of youth in euery thing : That heauie Saturne laught and leapt with him. Yet nor the laies of birds, nor the fweet fmell Of different flowers in odor and in hew. Could make me any fummers fl:ory tell : Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew : Nor did T wonder at the Lillies white. Nor praife the deepe vermillion in the Rofe, They weare but fweet, but figures of delight : G Drawne Shake-speares Drawne after you, you patterne of all thofe. Yet feem'd it Winter ftill, and you away, As with your fhaddow I with thefe did play. 99 'T^He forward violet thus did I chide, ■"■ Sweet theefe whence didft thou fteale thy fweet that If not from my loues breath, the purple pride, (fmels Which on thy foft cheeke for complexion dwells ? In my loues veines thou haft too grofely died. The Lillie I condemned for thy hand. And buds of marierom had ftolne thy haire. The Rofes fearefully on thornes did ftand, Our bluftiing fhame, an other white difpaire : A third nor red, nor white, had ftolne of both. And to his robbry had annext thy breath. But for his theft in pride of all his growth A vengfull canker eate him vp to death. More flowers I noted, yet I none could fee, But fweet, or culler it had ftolne from thee. lOO TT'TT'Here art thou Mufe that thou forgetft fo long, To fpeake of that which giues thee all thy might ? Spendft thou thy furie on fome worthlefte fonge, Darkning thy powre to lend bafe fubiefls light, Returne forgetfuU Mufe, and ftraight redeeme. In gentle numbers time fo idely fpent. Sing to the eare that doth thy laies efteeme. And giues thy pen both skill and argument. Rife refty Mufe, my loues fweet face furuay. If time haue any wrincle grauen there. If any, be a Satire to decay, And make times fpoiles difpifed euery where. Giue my loue fame fafter then time wafts life, So thou preuenft his fieth, and crooked knife. lOI f\i^ truant Mufe what fhalbe thy amends, ^^ For Sonnets. For thy negledt of truth in beauty di'd ? Both truth and beauty on my loue depends : So doft thou too, and therein dignifi'd : Make anfwere Mufe, wilt thou not haply faie. Truth needs no collour with his collour fixt, Beautie no penfell, beauties truth to lay : But beft is beft, if neuer intermixt. Becaufe he needs no praife, wilt thou be dumb ? Excufe not filence fo, for't lies in thee. To make him much out-liue a gilded tombe : And to be praifd of ages yet to be. Then do thy ofSce Mufe, I teach thee how. To make him feeme long hence, as he fhowes now. I02 A/TY loue is ftrengthned though more w^eake in fee- I loue not lefTe, thogh leffe the fhow appeare, (ming That loue is marchandiz'd, whofe ritch efteeming. The owners tongue doth publifh euery where. Our loue was new, and then but in the fpring. When I was wont to greet it with my laies. As Philomell in fummers front doth finge, And flops his pipe in growth of riper daies : Not that the fummer is lefTe pleafant now Then when her mournefull himns did hufh the nisht. But that wild mufick burthens euery bow. And fweets growne common loofe their deare delight. Therefore like her, I fome-time held my tongue : Becaufe I would not dull you with my fonge, 103 A Lack what pouerty my Mufe brings forth. That hauing fuch a skope to fhow her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Then when it hath my added praife befide. Oh blame me not if I no more can write ! Looke in your glaffe and there appeares a face. That ouer-goes my blunt inuention quite. Dulling my lines, and doing me difgrace. G a Were Shake-speares Were it not finfull then ftriuing to mend, To marre the fubiedt that before was well, For to no other pafle my verfes tend, Then of your graces and your gifts to tell. And more, much more then in my verfe can fit. Your owne glafle ftiowes you, when you looke in it. 104 ^T'O me faire friend you neuer can be old, For as you were when firft your eye I eyde. Such feemes your beau tie ftill : Three Winters colde, Haue from the forrefts fliooke three fummers pride, Three beautious fprings to yellow Autumne turn'd. In procefie of the feafons haue I leene. Three Aprill perfumes in three hot lunes burn'd, Since firft I faw you frelh which yet are greene. Ah yet doth beauty like a Dyall hand, Steale from his figure, and no pace perceiu'd. So your fweete hew, which me thinkes ftill doth ftand Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceaued. For feare of which, heare this thou age vnbred. Ere you were borne was beauties fummer dead. 105 T Et not my loue be cal'd Idolatrie, Nor my beloued as an Idoll fhow. Since all alike my fongs and praifes be To-one, of one, ftill fuch, and euer fo. Kinde is my loue to day, to morrow kinde. Still conftant in a wondrous excellence. Therefore my verfe to conftancie confin'de. One thing expreffing, leaues out difference. Faire, kinde, and true, is all my argument, Faire, kinde and true, varrying to other words, And in this change is my inuention fpent. Three theams in one, which wondrous fcope affords. Faire, kinde, and true, haue often liu'd alone. Which three till now, neuer kept feate in one. When w; Sonnets. 1 06 ■"Hen in the Chronicle of wafted time, I fee difcriptions of the faireft wights. And beautie making beautifull old rime, In praife of Ladies dead, and louely Knights, Then in the blazon of fweet beauties beft. Of hand, of foote, of lip, of eye, of brow, I fee their antique Pen would haue expreft, Euen fuch a beauty as you maifter now. So all their praifes are but prophefies Of this our time, all you prefiguring. And for they look'd but with deuining eyes, They had not ftill enough your worth to fing : For we which now behold thefe prefent dayes, Haue eyes to wonder, but lack toungs to praife. 107 "^[Ot mine owne feares, nor the prophetick foule. Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come, Can yet the leafe of my true loue controule, Suppofde as forfeit to a confin'd doome. The mortall Moone hath her eclipfe indur'de. And the fad Augurs mock their owne prefage, Incertenties now crowne them-felues affiir'de, And peace proclaimes Oliues of endlefl'e age. Now with the drops of this moft balmie time. My loue lookes frefh, and death to me fubfcribes. Since fpight of him He Hue in this poore rime. While he infults ore dull and fpeachlefle tribes. And thou in this fhalt finde thy monument. When tyrants crefts and tombs of brafle are fpent. 108 VVJ 'Hat's in the braine that Inck may charafter. Which hath not figur'd to thee my true fpirit. What's new to fpeake, what now to regifter. That may expreffe my loue, or thy deare merit ? Nothing fweet boy, but yet like prayers diuine, G 3 I muft Shake-speares. I muft each day fay ore the very fame. Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine, Euen as when firft I hallowed thy faire name. So that eternall loue in loues frefh cafe, Waighes not the duft and iniury of age. Nor giues to neceffary wrinckles place, But makes antiquitie for aye his page. Finding the firft conceit of loue there bred, Where time and outward forme would fhew it dead. 109 f~\ Neuer fay that I was falfe of heart. Though abfence feem'd my flame to quallifie. As eafie might I from my lelfe depart. As from my foule which in thy breft doth lye : That is my home of loue, if I haue rang'd. Like him that trauels I returne againe, luft to the time, not with the time exchang'd. So that my felfe bring water for my ftaine, Neuer beleeue though in my nature raign'd, All frailties that befiege all kindes of blood. That it could fo prepofterouflie be ftain'd, To leaue for nothing all thy fumme of good : For nothing this wide Vniuerfe I call, Saue thou my Rofe, in it thou art my all. no A' Las 'tis true, I haue gone here and there, "And made my felfe a motley to the view, Gor'd mine own thoughts, fold cheap what is moft deare, Made old offences of afFedhions new. Moft true it is, that I haue lookt on truth Afconce and ftrangely: But by all aboue, Thefe blenches gaue my heart an other youth. And worfe effaies prou'd thee my beft of loue, Now all is done, haue what fhall haue no end, Mine appetite I neuer more will grin'de On newer proofe, to trie an older friend, A God in loue, to whom I am confin'd. Then Sonnets. Then giue me welcome, next my heauen the beft, Euen to thy pure and moft moft louing breft. I II O For my fake doe you wifh fortune chide. The guiltie goddeffe of my harmful! deeds. That did not better for my life prouide. Then publick meanes which publick manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receiues a brand. And almoft thence my nature is fubdu'd To what it workes in, like the Dyers hand, Pitty me then, and wifh I were renu'de, Whilft like a willing pacient I will drinke. Potions of Eyfell gainft my ftrong infedtion, No bitterneffe that I will bitter thinke, Nor double pennance to corre6t corredlion. Pittie me then deare friend, and I aiTure yee, Euen that your pittie is enough to cure mee. 112 "^T'Our loue and pittie doth th'impreffion fill. Which vulgar fcandall flampt vpon my brow. For what care I who calles me well or ill. So you ore-greene my bad, my good alow.? You are my All the world, and I muft flriue. To know my fhames and praifes from your tounge. None elfe to me, nor I to none aliue. That my fleel'd fence or changes right or wrong, In fo profound Abifnie I throw all care Of others voyces, that my Adders fence. To cryttick and to flatterer flopped are : Marke how with my negledl I doe difpence. You are fo ftrongly in my purpofe bred. That all the world befides me thinkes y'are dead. Cince I left you, mine eye is in my minde. And that which gouernes me to goe about. Doth part his funftion, and is partly blind, Seemes Shake-speares. Seemes feeing, but efFedbually is out : For it no forme deliuers to the heart Of bird, of flowre, or fhape which it doth lack. Of his quick obiedts hath the minde no part, Nor his owne vifion houlds what it doth catch : For if it fee the rud'ft or gentleft fight. The moft fweet-fauor or deformedft creature. The mountaine, or the fea, the day, or night : The Croe, or Doue, it fhapes them to your feature. Incapable of more repleat, with you. My moft true minde thus maketh mine vntrue. 114 /^R whether doth my minde being crown'd with you Drinke vp the monarks plague this flattery ? Or whether fhall I fay mine eie faith true. And that your loue taught it this Alcumie ? To make of monfters, and things indigeft. Such cherubines as your fweet felfe referable. Creating euery bad a perfefb beft As faft as obiefts to his beames affemble : Oh tis the firft, tis flatry in my feeing, And my great minde moft kingly drinkes it vp. Mine eie well knowes what with his guft is greeing, And to his pallat doth prepare the cup. If it be polfon'd, tis the lefler finne. That mine eye loues it and doth firft beginne. 'IpHofe lines that I before haue writ doe lie, Euen thofe that faid I could not loue you deerer, Yet then my iugdement knew no reafon why, My moft full flame ftiould afterwards burne cleerer. But reckening time, whofe milliond accidents Creepe in twixt vowes, and change decrees of Kings, Tan facred beautie, blunt the ftiarp'ft intents, Diuert ftronge mindes to th' courfe of altring things : Alas why fearing of times tiranie. Might Sonnets. Might I not then fay now I loue you beft, When I was certaine ore in-certainty. Crowning the prefent, doubting of the reft : Loue is a Babe, then might I not fay fo To giue full growth to that which ftill doth grow. 119 (116) T Et me not to the marriage of true mindes Admit impediments, loue is not loue Which alters when it alteration findes. Or bends with the remouer to remoue. O no, it is an euer fixed marke That lookes on tempefts and is neuer ftiaken ; It is the ftar to euery wandring barke, Whofe worths vnknowne, although his higth be taken. Lou's not Times foole, though rofie lips and cheeks Within his bending fickles compaffe come, Loue alters not with his breefe houres and weekes. But beares it out euen to the edge of doome : If this be error and vpon me proued, I neuer writ, nor no man euer loued. 117 A Ccufe me thus, that I haue fcanted all. Wherein I fhould your great deferts repay. Forgot vpon your deareft loue to call. Whereto al bonds do tie me day by day. That I haue frequent binne with vnknown mindes. And giuen to time your owne deare purchaf d right. That I haue hoyfted faile to al the windes Which fhould tranfport me fartheft from your fight. Booke both my wilfulnefTe and errors downe. And on iuft proofe furmife, accumilate. Bring me within the leuel of your frowne. But fhoote not at me in your wakened hate : Since my appeale faies I did ftriue to prooue The conftancy and virtue of your, loue H 118 Shake-speares ii8 T Ike as to make our appetites more keene With eager compounds we our pallat vrge. As to preuent our malladies vnfeene, We ficken to fliun ficknefle when we purge. Euen fo being full of your nere cloying fweetnefle. To bitter fawces did I frame my feeding ; And ficke of wel-fare found a kind of meetneffe. To be difeaf'd ere that there was true needing. Thus pollicie in loue t'anticipate The ills that were, not grew to faults aflured. And brought to medicine a healthfull ftate Which rancke of goodnefle would by ill be cured. But thence I learne and find the lefTon true. Drugs poyfon him that fo fell ficke of you. 119 Hat potions haue I drunke of Syren teares w . . Diflil'd from Lymbecks foule as hell within. Applying feares to hopes, and hopes to feares. Still loofing when I faw my felfe to win ? What wretched errors hath my heart committed, Whilfl it hath thought it felfe fo blefTed neuer ? How haue mine eies out of their Spheares bene fitted In the diflra6tion of this madding feuer ? O benefit of ill, now I find true That better is, by euil flill made better. And ruin'd loue when it is built anew Growes fairer then at firfh, more flrong, far greater. So I return e rebukt to my content. And gaine by ills thrife more then I haue fpent. 120 npHat you were once vnkind be-friends mee now. And for that forrow , which I then didde feele, Needes mufl I vnder my tranfgrefTion bow, VnlefTe my Nerues were braffe or hammered fteele. For if you were by my vnkindneffe fhaken As Sonnets. As I by yours , y'haue paft a hell of Time, And I a tyrant haue no leafure taken To waigh how once I fufFered in your crime. O that our night of wo might haue remembred My deepeft fence, how hard true forrow hits. And foone to you, as you to me then tendred And humble falue, which wounded bofomes fits ! But that your trefpafle now becomes a fee. Mine ranfoms yours, and yours muft ranfome inee. '"PIS better to be vile then vile efteemed. When not to be, receiues reproach of being. And the iuft pleafure loft, which is fo deemed. Not by our feeling, but by others feeing. For why Ihould others falfe adulterat eyes Giue falutation to my fportiue blood ? Or on my frailties why are frailer fpies ; Which in their wils count bad what I think good ? Noe, I am that I am, and they that leuell At my abufes, reckon vp their owne, I may be ftraight though they them-felues be beuel By their rancke thoughtes, my deedes muft not be fhown VnlefTe this general euill they maintaine. All men are bad and in their badneffe raigne. 122. 'T^Thy guift,, thy tables, are within my braine Full charadterd with lafting memory. Which fhall aboue that idle rancke remaine Beyond all date euen to eternity. Or at the leaft, fo long as braine and heart Haue facultie by nature to fubfift. Til each to raz'd obliuion yeeld his part Of thee, thy record neuer can be mift : That poore retention could not fo much hold. Nor need I tallies thy deare loue to skore. Therefore, to giue them from me was I bold, H 2 To Shake-speares To truft thofe tables that receaue thee more. To keepe an adiunckt to remember thee, Were to import forgetfulnefle in mee. 123 "^"O ! Time, thou fhalt not boft that I doe change. Thy pyramyds buylt vp with newer might To me are nothing nouell, nothing ftrange. They are but dreffings of a former fight : Our dates are breefe, and therefor we admire. What thou doft foyft vpon vs that is ould. And rather make them borne to our defire. Then thinke that we before haue heard them tould : Thy regifters and thee I both defie. Not wondring at the prefent, nor the paft. For thy records, and what we fee doth lye. Made more or les by thy continual haft : This I doe vow and this fhall euer be, I will be true difpight thy fyeth and thee, 124 "VTF rny deare loue were but the childe of ftate. It might for fortunes bafterd be vnfathered. As fubiedt to times loue, or to times hate, Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gatherd. No it was buylded far from accident. It fuffers not in fmilinge pomp, nor falls Vnder the blow of thralled difcontent, Whereto th' inuiting time our fafhion calls : It feares not policy that Hereticke, Which workes on leafes of fliort numbred howers, But all alone ftands hugely pollitick. That it nor growes with heat, nor drownes with ihowres. To this I witnes call the foles of time. Which die for goodnes, who haue liu'd for crime. 125 "^^Y^Er't ought to me I bore the canopy. With my extern the outward honoring, Or Sonnets. Or layd great bafes for eternity, "Which proues more fhort then waft or ruining ? Haue I not feene dwellers on forme and fauor Lofe all, and more by paying too much rent For compound fweet ; Forgoing fimple fauor, PittifuU thriuors in their gazing fpent. Noe, let me be obfequious in thy heart. And take thou my oblacion, poore but free. Which is not mixt with feconds, knows no art. But mutuall render, onely me for thee. Hence, thou fubbornd Informer, a trew foule When moft impeacht, ftands leaft in thy controule. 126 /^Thou my louely Boy who in thy power, Doeft hould times fickle glafle, his fickle, hower : Who haft by wayning growne, and therein ftiou'ft. Thy louers withering, as thy fweet felfe grow'ft. If Nature (foueraine mifteres ouer wrack) As thou goeft onwards ftill will plucke thee backe. She keepes thee to this purpofe, that her skill. May time difgrace, and wretched mynuit kill. Yet feare her O thou minnion of her pleafure, She may detaine, but not ftill keepe her trefure ! Her Audite (though delaydj anfwer'd muft be. And her Quietus is to render thee. ( ) ( ) 127 TN the ould age blacke was not counted faire. Or if it weare it bore not beauties name : But now is blacke beauties fuccefliue heire. And Beautie flanderd with a baftard fliame. For fince each hand hath put on Natures power. Fairing the foule with Arts faulfe borrow'd face. Sweet beauty hath no name no holy boure. But is prophan'd, if not Hues in disgrace. H 3 Therefore Shake-speares Therefore my Mifterffe eyes are Rauen blacke, Her eyes fo futed, and they mourners feeme. At fuch who not borne faire no beauty lack, Slandring Creation with a falfe efteeme, Yet fo they mourne becomming of their woe. That euery toung faies beauty fhould looke fo. 128 h; rOw oft when thou my mufike mufike playft, "Vpon that blefled wood whofe motion founds With thy fweet fingers when thou gently fwayft. The wiry concord that mine eare confounds. Do I enuie thofe lackes that nimble leape. To kiffe the tender inward of thy hand, Whilft my poore lips which fhould that harueft teape. At the woods bouldnes by thee blufhing ftand. To be fo tikled they would change their ftate. And fituation with thofe dancing chips. Ore whome their fingers walke with gentle gate, Making dead wood more bleft then liuing lips. Since faufie lackes fo happy are in this, Giue them their fingers, me thy lips to kifle. 129 '~pH' expence of Spirit in a wafte of fhame Is luft in adtion, and till aftion, luft Is periurd, murdrous, blouddy full of blame, Sauage, extreame, rude, cruell, not to truft, Inioyd no fooner but difpifed ftraight, Paft reafon, hunted, and no fooner had Paft reafon hated as a fwollowed bayt. On purpofe layd to make the taker mad. Made In purfut and in pofleflion fo, Had, hauing, and in queft, to haue extreame, A blifi^e in proofe and proud and very wo. Before a ioy propofd behind a dreame. All this the world well knowes yet none knowes well, To fhun the heauen that leads men to this hell. My Sonnets. 130 jyjY Miftres eyes are nothing like the Sunne, Currall is farre more red, then her lips red. If fnow be white, why then her brefts are dun : If h aires be wiers, black wiers grow on her head : I haue feenes Rofes damaskt, red and white. But no fuch Rofes fee I in her cheekes. And in fome perfumes is there more delight. Then in the breath that from my Miftres reekes. I loue to heare her fpeake, yet well I know. That Muficke hath a farre more pleafing found : I graunt I neuer faw a goddeffe goe. My Miftres when fhee walkes treads on the ground. And yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare. As any fhe beli'd with falfe compare. 131 'TpHou art as tiranous, fo as thou art, As thofe whofe beauties proudly make them cruell ; For well thou know'ft to my deare doting hart Thou art the faireft and moft precious lewell. Yet in good faith fome fay that thee behold. Thy face hath not the power to make loue grone ; To fay they erre, I dare not be fo bold. Although 1 fweare it to my felfe alone. And to be fure that is not falfe I fweare A thoufand grones but thinking on thy face, One on anothers necke do witneffe beare Thy blacke is faireft in my iudgements place. In nothing art thou blacke faue in thy deeds. And thence this flaunder as I thinke proceeds. 'TPHine eies I loue, and they as pittying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with difdaine, Haue put on black, and louing mourners bee. Looking with pretty ruth vpon my paine. And Shake-speares Therefore my Mifterfle eyes are Rauen blacke, Her eyes (o futed, and they mourners feeme. At fuch who not borne faire no beauty lack, Slandring Creation with a falfe efteeme, Yet fo they mourne becomming of their woe. That euery toung faies beauty fhould looke fo. 128 H[ [Ow oft when thou my mufike mufike play ft, 'Vpon that blefled wood whofe motion founds With thy fweet fingers when thou gently fwayft. The wiry concord that mine eare confounds. Do I enuie thofe lackes that nimble leape, To kifle the tender inward of thy hand, Whilft my poore hps which fhould that harueft reape. At the woods bouldnes by thee blufhing ftand. To be fo tikled they would change their ftate. And fituation with thofe dancing chips. Ore whome their fingers waike with gentle gate, Making dead wood more bleft then liuing lips. Since faufie lackes fo happy are in this, Giue them their fingers, me thy lips to kiffe. 129 T^H' expence of Spirit in a wafte of fhame Is luft in adtion, and till adtion, luft Is periurd, murdrous, blouddy full of blame, Sauage, extreame, rude, cruell, not to truft, Inioyd no fooner but difpifed ftraight, Paft reafon, hunted, and no fooner had Paft reafon hated as a fwollowed bayt. On purpofe layd to make the taker mad. Made In purfut and in pofieffion fo, Had, liauing, and in queft, to haue extreame, A bliffe in proofe and proud and very wo. Before a ioy propofd behind a dreame. All this the world well knowes yet none knowes well. To fhun the heauen that leads men to this hell. My Sonnets. 130 jyjY Miftres eyes are nothing like the Sunne, Currall is farre more red, then her lips red. If fnow be white, why then her brefts are dun : If haires be wiers, black wiers grow on her head : I haue feenes Rofes damaskt, red and white. But no fuch Rofes fee I in her cheekes. And in fome perfumes is there more delight, Then in the breath that from my Miftres reekes. I loue to heare her fpeake, yet well I know. That Muficke hath a farre more pleafing found : I graunt I neuer faw a goddeffe goe. My Miftres when Ihee walkes treads on the ground. And yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare, As any fhe beli'd with falfe compare. ' I '*Hou art as tiranous, fo as thou art, As thofe whofe beauties proudly make them cruell ; For well thou know'ft to my deare doting hart Thou art the faireft and moft precious lewell. Yet in good faith fome fay that thee behold. Thy face hath not the power to make loue grone ; To fay they erre, I dare not be fo bold. Although I fweare it to my felfe alone. And to be fure that is not falfe I fweare A thoufand grones but thinking on thy face. One on anothers necke do witneffe beare Thy blacke is faireft in my iudgements place. In nothing art thou blacke faue in thy deeds. And thence this flaunder as I thinke proceeds. npHine eles I loue, and they as pittying me. Knowing thy heart torment me with difdaine, Haue put on black, and louing mourners bee. Looking with pretty ruth vpon my paine. And Shake-speares And truly not the morning Sun of Heauen Better becomes the gray cheeks of th' Eaft Nor that full Starre that vfhers in the Eauen Doth halfe that glory to the fober Weft As thofe two morning eyes become thy face : O let it then as well befeeme thy heart To mourne for me fince mourning doth thee grace, And fute thy pitty like in euery part. Then will I fweare beauty her felfe is blacke. And all they foule that thy complexion lacke. T? Efhrew that heart that makes my heart to groane For that deepe wound it giues my friend and me ; I'ft not ynough to torture me alone. But flaue to flauery my fweet'ft friend muft be. Me from my felfe thy cruell eye hath taken. And my next felfe thou harder haft ingroffed. Of him, my felfe, and thee I am forfaken, A torment thrice three-fold thus to be crofTed : Prifon my heart in thy fteele bofomes warde. But then my friends heart let my poore heart bale. Who ere keepes me, let my heart be his garde, Thou canft not then vfe rigor in my laile. And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee. Perforce am thine and all that is in me. CO now I haue confeft that he is thine. And I my felfe am morgag'd to thy will. My felfe He forfeit, fo that other mine, Thou wilt reftore to be my comfort ftill : But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free. For thou art couetous, and he is kinde. He learnd but furitie-like to write for me, Vnder that bond that him as faft doth binde. The ftatute of thy beauty thou wilt take. Thou vfurer that put'ft forth all to vfe. And Sonnets. And fue a friend, came debter for my fake. So him I loofe through my vnkinde abufe. Him haue I loft, thou haft both him and me. He paies the whole, and yet am I not free. 135 "VVT'Ho euer hath her wifti, thou haft thy IVill, And Will too boote, and fVill in ouer-plus, More then enough am I that vexe thee ftill. To thy fweet will making addition thus. Wilt thou whofe will is large and fpatious. Not once vouchfafe to hide my will in thine. Shall will in others feeme right gracious. And in my will no faire acceptance ftiine : The fea all water, yet receiues raine ftill. And in aboundance addeth to his ftore. So thou beeing rich in IVill adde to thy Will, One will of mine to make thy large Will more. Let no vnkinde, no faire befeechers kill, Thinke all but one, and me in that one Will. 136 TF thy foule check thee that I come fo neere, Sweare to thy blind foule that I was thy Will, And will thy foule knowes is admitted there. Thus farre for loue, my loue-fute fweet fullfill. Will, will fullfill the treafure of thy loue, I fill it full with wils, and my will one. In things of great receit with eafe we prooue. Among a number one is reckon'd none. Then in the number let me pafle vntold. Though in thy ftores account I one muft be. For nothing hold me, fo it pleafe thee hold. That nothing me, a fome-thing fweet to thee. Make but my name thy loue, and loue that ftill. And then thou loueft me for my name is Will. 137 THou blinde foole loue, what dooft thou to mine eyes, I That Shake-speares That they behold and fee not what they fee : They know what beautie is, fee where it lyes. Yet what the beft is, take the worft to be. If eyes corrupt by ouer-partiall lookes. Be anchord in the baye where all men ride. Why of eyes falfehood haft thou forged hookes. Whereto the iudgement of my heart is tide ? Why fhould my heart thinke that a feuerall plot. Which my heart knowes the wide worlds common place ? Or mine eyes feeing this, fay this is not To put faire truth vpon fo foule a face. In things right true my heart and eyes haue erred. And to this falfe plague are they now tranfferred. 138 TIT" Hen my loue fweares that fhe is made of truth, I do beleeue her though I know fhe lyes. That fhe might thinke me fome vntuterd youth, Vnlearned in the worlds falfe fubtilties. Thus vainely thinking that fhe thinkes me young. Although fhe knowes my dayes are paft the beft, Simply I credit her falfe fpeaking tongue. On both fides thus is fimple truth fuppreft : But wherefore fayes fhe not fhe is vniuft ? And wherefore fay not I that I am old ? O loues beft habit is in feeming truft. And age in loue, loues not t'haue yeares told. Therefore I lye with her, and fhe with me. And in our faults by lyes we flattered be. C\ Call not me to iuftifie the wrong. That thy vnkindnefTe layes vpon my heart. Wound me not with thine eye but with thy toung, Vfe power with power, and flay me not by Art, Tell me thou lou'ft elfe-where ; but in my fight, Deare heart forbeare to glance thine eye afide. What needft thou wound with cunning when thy might Is Sonnets. Is more then my ore-prefl: defence can bide ? Let me excufe thee, ah my loue well knowes. Her prettie lookes haue beene mine enemies. And therefore from my face fhe turnes my foes, That they elfe-where might dart their iniuries : Yet do not fo, but fince I am neere flaine. Kill me out-right with lookes, and rid my paine. 140 IDE wife as thou art cruell, do not prefie My toung-tide patience with too much difdaine : Leaft forrow lend me words and words expreffe, The manner of my pittie wanting paine. If I might teach thee witte better it weare. Though not to loue, yet loue to tell me fo. As teftie fick-men when their deaths be neere. No newes but health from their Phiiitions know. For if I fhould difpaire I fhould grow madde, And in my madneffe might fpeake ill of thee. Now this ill wrefting world is growne fo bad, Madde flanderers by madde eares beleeued be. That I may not be fo, nor thou be lyde, (wide. Beare thine eyes fbraight, though thy proud heart goe 141 TN faith I doe not loue thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thoufand errors note, But 'tis my heart that loues what they difpife, Who in difpight of view is pleafd to dote. Nor are mine eares with thy toungs tune delighted, Nor tender feeling to bafe touches prone, Nor tafte, nor fmell, defire to be inuited To any fenfuall feaft with thee alone .- But my fiue wits, nor my fiue fences can Difwade one foolifh heart from feruing thee, Who leaues vnfwal'd the likeneiTe of a man. Thy proud hearts flaue and vaffall wretch to be : Onely my plague thus farre I count my gaine. That fhe that makes me finne, awards me paine. I 2 Loue Shake-speares 14a T Oue is my finne, and thy deare vertue hate. Hate of my finne, grounded on finfull louing, O but with mine, compare thou thine owne ftate. And thou fhalt finde it merrits not reproouing. Or if it do, not from thofe lips of thine. That haue prophan'd their fcarlet ornaments. And feald falfe bonds of loue as oft as mine, Robd others beds reuenues of their rents. Be it lawfull I loue thee as thou lou'ft thofe, Whome thine eyes wooe as mine importune thee, Roote pittie in thy heart that when it growes. Thy pitty may deferue to pittied bee. If thou dooft feeke to haue what thou dooft hide. By felfe example mai'ft thou be denide. T Oe as a carefull hufwife runnes to catch. One of her fethered creatures broake away. Sets downe her babe and makes all fwift difpatch In purfuit of the thing fhe would haue ftay : Whilft her negle6ted child holds her in chace. Cries to catch her whofe bufie care is bent. To follow that which flies before her face : Not prizing her poore infants difcontent ; So runft thou after that which flies from thee, Whilft I thy babe chace thee a farre behind. But if thou catch thy hope turne back to me: And play the mothers part kisse me, be kind. So will I pray that thou maift haue thy Will, If thou turne back and my loude crying ftill. 144 'T'Wo loues I haue of comfort and difpaire. Which like two fpirits do fugieft me ftill. The better angell is a man right faire : The worfer fpirit a woman collour'd il. To win me foone to hell my femall euill, Tempteth Sonnets. Tempteth my better angel from my fight. And would corrupt my faint to be a diuel : Wooing his purity with her fowie pride. And whether that my angel be turn'd finde, Sufpedt I may, yet not diredtly tell. But being both from me both to each friend, I gefle one angel in an others hel. Yet this fhal I nere know but Hue in doubt. Till my bad angel fire my good one out. 145 'T'Hofe lips that Loues owne hand did make, ■*■ Breath'd forth the found that faid I hate, To me that languifht for her fake ; But when fhe faw my wofull ftate, Straight in her heart did mercie come. Chiding that tongue that euer fweet. Was vfde in giuing gentle dome : And tought it thus a new to greete : I hate fhe alterd with an end, That foUow'd it as gentle day. Doth follow night who like a fiend From heauen to hell is flowne away. I hate, from hate away fhe threw. And fau'd my life faying not you. 146 pOore foule the center of my finfull earth, My finfull earth thefe rebbell powres that thee array, Why dofl thou pine within and fuffer dearth Painting thy outward walls fo coftlie gay ? Why fo large coft hauing fo fhort a leafe, Doll thou vpon thy fading manfion fpend ? Shall wormes inheritors of this exceffe Eate vp thy charge ? is this thy bodies end ? Then foule Hue thou vpon thy feruants lofTe, And let that pine to aggrauat thy ftore ; Buy tearmes diuine in felling houres of droffe : I 3 Within Shake-speares Within be fed, without be rich no more. So fhalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men. And death once dead, ther's no more dying thetj. IV/TY loue is as a feauer longing ftill. For that which longer nurfeth the difeafe. Feeding on that which doth preferue the ill, Th' vncertaine ficklie appetite to pleafe : My reafon the Phifition to my loue. Angry that his prefcriptions are not kept Hath left me, and I defperate now approoue, Defire is death, which Phifick did except, Paft cure I am, now Reafon is paft care, And frantick madde with euer-more vnreft. My thoughts and my difcourfe as mad mens are. At randon from the truth vainely expreft. For I haue fworne thee faire, and thought thee bright. Who art as black as hell, as darke as night. T48 /~\ Me ! what eyes hath loue put in my head. Which haue no correfpondence with true fight. Or if they haue, where is my iudgment fled. That cenfures falfely what they fee aright ? If that be faire whereon my falfe eyes dote, What meanes the world to fay it is not io ? If it be not, then loue doth well denote, Loues eye is not fo true as all mens : no, How can it .? O how can loues eyes be true. That is fo vext with watching and with teares ? No maruaile then though I miftake my view. The funne it felfe fees not, till heauen cleeres. O cunning loue, with teares thou keepft me blinde, Leaft eyes well feeing thy foule faults Ihould finde. 149 ^Anft thou O cruell, fay I loue thee not, ^When I againft my felfe with thee pertake : Doe Sonnets. Doe I not thinke on thee when I forgot Am of my felfe, all tirant for thy fake ? Who hateth thee that I doe call my friend, On whom froun'ft thou that I doe faune vpon. Nay if thou lowrft on me doe I not fpend Reuenge vpon my felfe with prefent mone ? What merrit do I in my felfe refpedl. That is fo proude thy feruice to difpife, When all my beft doth worfhip thy defeat. Commanded by the motion of thine eyes. But loue hate on for now I know thy minde, Thofe that can fee thou lou'ft, and I am blind. 150 /^H from what powre haft thou this powrefuU might. With infufficiency my heart to fway, To make me giue the lie to my true fight, And fwere that brightneffe doth not grace the day ? Whence haft thou this becomming of things il. That in the very refufe of thy deedsj There is fuch ftrength and warrantife of skill, That in my minde thy worft all beft exceeds ? Who taught thee how to make me loue thee more. The more I heare and fee iuft caufe of hate. Oh though I loue what others doe abhor. With others thou fhouldft not abhor my ftate. If thy vnworthinefle raifd loue in me. More worthy I to be belou'd of thee. 151 T Oue is too young to know what confcience is. Yet who knowes not confcience is borne of loue. Then gentle cheater vrge not my amiffe, Leaft guilty of my faults thy fweet felfe proue. For thou betraying me, I doe betray My nobler part to my grofe bodies treafon. My foule doth tell my body that he may, Triumph in loue, flefh ftaies no farther reafon. But Shake-speares But ryfing at thy name doth point out thee. As his triumphant prize^ proud of this pride. He is contented thy poore drudge to be To ftand in thy affaires, fall by thy fide. No want of confcience hold it that I call. Her loue, for whofe deare loue I rife and fall. 152 TN louing thee thou know'ft I am forfworne, But thou art twice forfworne to me loue fwearing ; In a6t thy bed- vow broake and new faith torne. In vowing new hate after new loue bearing : But why of two othes breach doe I accufe thee. When I breake twenty : I am periur'd moft. For all my vowes are othes but to mifufe thee : And all my honeft faith in thee is loft. For I haue fworne deepe othes of thy deepe kindnefle : Othes of thy loue, thy truth, thy conftancie. And to inlighten thee gaue eyes to blindnefle, Or made them fwere againft the thing they fee. For I haue fworne thee faire : more periurde eye, To fwere againft the truth fo foule a lie. r^Vpid laid by his brand and fell a flieepe, ^^A maide of Dyans this aduantage found. And his loue-kindling fire did quickly fteepe In a could vallie-fountaine of that ground : Which borrowd from this holie fire of loue, A datelefl'e liuely heat ftill to indure. And grew a feething bath which yet men proue, Againft ftrang malladies a foueraigne cure : But at my miftres eie loues brand new fired. The boy for triall needes would touch my breft, I fick withall the heipe of bath defired. And thether hied a fad diftemperd gueft. But found no cure, the bath for my helpe lies, Where Cupid got new fire ; my miftres eye. 154 Sonnets. nPHe little Loue-God lying once a fleepe. Laid by his fide his heart inflaming brand, Whilfl; many Nymphes that vou'd chafl: life to keep, Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand. The fayreft votary tooke vp that fire. Which many Legions of true hearts had warm'd. And fo the Generall of hot defire. Was fleeping by a Virgin hand difarm'd. This brand Ihe quenched in a coole Well by. Which from loues fire tooke heat perpetuall. Growing a bath and healthfull remedy. For men difeafd, but I my Miftriffe thrall. Came there for cure and this by that I proue, Loues fire heates water, water coules not loue. FINIS. K A A Louers complaint. BT William Shake-speare. T^Rom ofF a hill whofe concaue wombe rewordedj A plaintfull ftory from a fiftring vale My fpirrits t'attend this duble voyce accorded. And downe I laid to lift the fad tun'd tale. Ere long efpied a fickle maid full pale Tearing of papers breaking rings a twaine. Storming her world with forrowes, wind and raine. Vpon her head a plattid hiue of ftraw. Which fortified her vifage from the Sunne, Whereon the thought might thinke fometime it faw The carkas of a beauty fpent and donne, Time had not fithed all that youth begun. Nor youth all quit, but fpight of heauens fell rage, Some beauty peept, through lattice of fear'd age. Oft did fhe heaue her Napkin to her eyne, Which on it had conceited charedlers : Laundring the filken figures in the brine. That feafoned woe had pelleted in teares. And often reading what contents it beares ; As often fhriking vndiftinguifht wo. In clamours of all fize both high and low. Some-times her leueld eyes their carriage ride, As they did battry to the fpheres intend : Sometime diuerted their poore balls are tide, To th'orbed earth ; fometimes they do extend. Their view right on, anon their gafes lend. To Complaint To euery place at once and no where fixt. The mind and fight diftraftedJy commxit. Her haire nor loofe nor ti'd in formall plat, Proclaimd in her a carelefle hand of pride ; For fome vntuck'd defcended her fheu'd hat. Hanging her pale and pined cheeke befide. Some in her threeden fillet ftill did bide. And trew to bondage would not breake from thence. Though flackly braided in loofe negligence. A thoufand fauours from a maund (he drew, Of amber chriftall and of bedded let. Which one by one fiie in a riuer threw, Vpon whofe weeping margent flie was fet. Like vfery applying wet to wet. Or Monarches hands that lets not bounty fall. Where want cries fome ; but where exceflebegs all. Of folded fchedulls had fhe many a one, Which fhe peruf'd, fighd, tore and gaue the flud, Crackt many a ring of Pofied gold and bone, Bidding them find their Sepulchers in mud. Found yet mo letters fadly pend in blood, With fleided filke, feate and afFeftedly Enfwath'd and feald to curious fecrecy. Thefe often bath'd ihe in her fluxiue eies, And often kift, and often gaue to teare. Cried O falfe blood thou regifter of lies, What vnapproued witnes dooft thou beare ! Inke would haue feem'd more blacke and damned heare ! This faid in top of rage the lines fhe rents, Big difcontent, fo breaking their contents. A reuerend man that graz'd his cattell ny, K 2 Some- A Lovers Sometime a blufterer that the ruffle knew Of Court of Cittie, and had let go by The fwifteft houres obferued as they flew. Towards this afilidted fancy fafl;ly drew : And priuiledg'd by age defires to know In breefe the grounds and motiues of her wo. So Aides he downe vppon his greyned bat ; And comely diftant fits he by her fide. When hee againe defires her, being fatte. Her greeuance with his hearing to deuide • If that from him there may be ought applied Which may her fufFering extafie afl"wage Tis promifi in the charitie of age. Father fhe faies, though in mee you behold The iniury of many a blafling houre ; Let it not tell your Judgement I am old. Not age, but forrow, ouer me hath power ; I might as yet haue bene a fpreading flower Frefh to my felfe, if I had felfe applyed Loue to my felfe, and to no Loue befide. But woe is mee, too early I attended A youthfuU fuit it was to gaine my grace ; O one by natures outwards fo commended. That maidens eyes flucke ouer all his face, Loue lackt a dwelling and made him her place. And when in his faire parts fhee didde abide, Shee was new lodg'd and newly Deified. His browny locks did hang in crooked curies. And euery light occafion of the wind Vpon his llppes their filken parcel hurles, Whats fweet to do, to do wil aptly find. Each eye that faw him did inchaunt the minde : For Complaint. For on his vifage was in little drawne. What largeneffe thinkes in parradife was fawne. Smal fliew of man was yet vpon his chinne. His phenix downe began but to appeare Like vnfhorne veluet, on that termlefle skin Whofe bare out-brag'd the web it feem'd to were. Yet fhewed his vifage by that coft more deare. And nice aifedtions wauering flood in doubt If beft were as it was, or beft without. His qualities were beautious as his forme. For maiden tongu'd he was and thereof free ; Yet if men mou'd him, was he fuch a ftorme As oft twixt May and Aprill is to fee. When windes breath fweet, vnruly though they bee. His rudeneffe fo with his authoriz'd youth, Did liuery falfenefTe in a pride of truth. Wei could hee ride, and often men would fay That horfe his mettell from his rider takes Proud of fubiedtion, noble by the fwaie, f'makes What rounds, what bounds, what courfe what ftop he And controuerfie hence a queftion takes. Whether the horfe by him became his deed. Or he his mannad'g, by'th wel doing Steed. But quickly on this fide the verdift went. His reaU habitude gaue life and grace To appertainings and to ornament, Accomplifht in him-felfe not in his cafe : All ayds them-felues made fairer by their place. Can for addlcions, yet their purpof'd trimme Peec'd not his grace but were al grac'd by him. So on the tip of his fubduing tongue K 3 All A Lovers All kinde of arguments and queftion deepe, Al replication prompt, and reafon ftrong For his aduantage ftill did wake and fleep. To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weepe He hadthe dialedb and different skil. Catching al paffions in his craft of will. That hee didde in the general bofome raigne Of young, of old, and fexes both inchanted. To dwel with him in thoughts, or to remaine In perfonal duty, following where he haunted, Confent's bewitcht, ere he defire haue granted, And dialogu'd for him what he would fay, Askt their own wils and made their wils obey. Many there were that did his pidlure gette To ferue their eies, and in it put their mind, Like fooles that in th' imagination fet The goodly obiedbs which abroad they find Of lands and manfions, theirs in thought affign'd. And labouring in moe pleafures to beftow them. Then the true gouty Land-lord which doth owe them. So many haue that never toucht his hand Sweetly fuppofd them miftrefle of his heart : My wofull felfe that did in freedome ftand. And was my owne fee fimple (not in part^ What with his art in youth and youth in art Threw my affe6tions in his charmed power, Referu'd the ftalke and gaue him al my flower. Yet did I not as fome my equals did Demaund of him, nor being defired yeelded. Finding my felfe in honour fo forbidde. With fafeft diftance I mine honour fheelded. Experience for me many bulwarkes builded Of Complaint. Of proofs new bleeding which remaind the foile Of this falfe lewell, and his amorous fpoile. But ah who euer fhun'd by precedent, The deftin'd ill fhe muft her felfe affay. Or forc'd examples gainft her owne content To put the by-paft perrils in her way ? Counfaile may flop a while what will not ftay : For when we rage, aduife is often feene By blunting vs to make our wits more keene. Nor giues it fatisfadtion to our blood, That wee muft curbe it vppon others proofe. To be forbod the fweets that feemes fo goodj For feare of harmes that preach in our behoofe ; O appetite from iudgement ftand aloofe ! The one a pallate hath that needs will tafte. Though reafon weepe and cry it is thy laft. For further I could fay this mans vntrue, And knew the patternes of his foule beguiling, Heard where his plants in others Orchards grew. Saw how deceits were guilded in his fmiling. Knew vowes, were euer brokers to defiling. Thought Charadters and words meerly but art. And baftards of his foule adulterat heart. And long vpon thefe termes I held my Citty, Till thus hee gan befiege me : Gentle maid Haue of my fuffering youth fome feeling pitty And be not of my holy vowes affraid, Thats to ye fworne to none was euer faid. For feafts of loue I haue bene call'd vnto Till now did nere inuite nor neuer vow. All my offences that abroad you fee K 4 Are A Lovers Are errors of the blood none of the mind : Loue made them not, with a<5ture they may be. Where neither Party is nor trew nor kind. They fought their fhame that fo their fhame did find. And fo much leffe of fhame in me remaines. By how much of me their reproch containes. Among the many that mine eyes haue feene. Not one whofe flame my hart fo much as warmed. Or my affedtion put to th, fmalleft teene. Or any of my leifures euer Charmed, Harme haue I done to them but nere was harmed. Kept hearts in liueries, but mine owne was free. And reignd commaunding in his monarchy. Looke heare what tributes wounded fancies fent me. Of palyd pearles and rubies red as blood : Figuring that they their paffions likewife lent me Of greefe and blufhes, aptly vnderftood In bloodleffe white, and the encrimfon'd mood, EiFedls of terror and deare modefty, Encampt in hearts but fighting outwardly. And Lo behold thefe tallents of their heir, With twifted mettle amoroufly empleacht I haue receau'd from many a feueral faire. Their kind acceptance, wepingly befeecht. With th'annexions of faire gems inricht. And deepe brain'd fonnets that did amplifie Each ftones deare Nature, worth and quallity. The Diamond ? why twas beautifull and hard. Whereto his inuiPd properties did tend. The deepe greene Emrald in whofe frefli regard, Weake fights their fickly radience do amend. The heauen hewd Saphir and the Opall blend With Complaint. With obiedbs manyfold ; each feuerall ftone. With wit well blazond fmil'd or made feme mone. Lo all thefe trophies of afFedtions hot. Of penfiu'd and fubdew'd defires the tender. Nature hath charg'd me that I hoord them not. But yeeld them vp where I my felfe muft render : That is to you my origin and ender .- For thefe of force muft your oblations be. Since I their Aulter you en patrone me. Oh then aduance (of yours^ that phrafeles hand, Whofe white weighes downe the airy fcale of praife, Take aU thefe fimilies to your owne command, HoUowed with fighes that burning lunges did raife : What me your minifter for you obaies Workes vnder you, and to your audit comes Their diftradt parcells, in combined fummes. Lo this deuice was fent me from a Nun, Or Sifter fanftified of holieft note. Which late her noble fuit in court did ftiun, Whofe rareft hauings made the bloffoms dote. For ftie was fought by fpirits of ritcheft cote. But kept cold diftance, aud did thence remoue. To fpend her liuing in eternall loue. But oh my fweet what labour ift to leaue. The thing we haue not, maftring what not ftriues. Playing the Place which did no forme receiue. Playing patient fports in vnconftraind giues. She that her fame fo to her felfe contriues. The fcarres of battaile fcapeth by the flight. And makes her abfence valiant, not her might. Oh pardon me that in my boaft is true, ^ L The A Lovers The accident which brought me to her eie, Vpon the moment did her force fubdewe. And now fhe would the caged cloifter flie : Religious loue put out religions eye : Not to be tempted would ftie be enur'd. And now to tempt all liberty procure. How mightie then you are. Oh heare me tell. The broken bofoms that to me belong, Haue emptied all their fountaines in my well : And mine I powre your Ocean all amonge : I ftrong ore them and you ore me being ftrong, Mufl; for your vidtorie vs all congeft. As compound loue to phifick your cold breft. My parts had powre to charme a facred Sunne, Who difciplin'd I dieted in grace, Beleeu'd her eies, when they t'aflaile begun. All vowes and confecrations giuing place : O moft potentiall loue, vowe, bond, nor fpace In thee hath neither fting, knot, nor confine For thou art all and all things els art thine. When thou imprefleft what are precepts worth Of ftale example ? when thou wilt inflame. How coldly thofe impediments ftand forth Of wealth of filliall feare, lawe, kindred fame, (^fliame Loues armes are peace, gainft rule, gainft fence, gainft And fweetens in the fuffring pangues it beares. The Allocs of all forces, fhockes and feares. Now all thefe hearts that doe on mine depend. Feeling it breake, with bleeding groanes they pine. And fupplicant their fighes to you extend To leaue the battrie that you make gainft mine. Lending foft audience, to my fweet defigne. And Complaint. And credent foule, to that ftrong bonded oth. That fhall preferre and vndertake my troth. This faid, his watrie eies he did difmount, Whofe fightes till then were leaueld on my face. Each cheeke a riuer running from a fount. With brynifh currant downe-ward flowed a pace : Oh how the channell to the flreame gaue grace ! Who glaz'd with Chriftall gate the glowing Rofes, That flame through water which their hew inclofes, Oh father, what a hell of witch-craft lies, In the fmall orb of one perticular teare ? But with the invndation of the eies : What rocky heart to water will not weare ? What breft fo cold that is not warmed heare. Or cleft effedt, cold modefty hot wrath : Both fire from hence, and chill extindture hath. For loe his paffion but an art of craft, Euen there refolu'd my reafon into teares, There my white flole of chaflity I daft, Shooke off my fober gardes, and ciuill feares, Appeare to him as he to me appeares : All melting, though our drops this diffrence bore. His poifon'd me, and mine did him reftpre. In him a plenitude of fubtle matter. Applied to Cautills, all fl:raing formes receiues, Of burning blufhes, or of weeping water. Or founding paleneffe : and he takes and leaues. In cithers aptnefle as it beft deceiues : To blufh at fpeeches ranck, to weepe at woes Or to turne white and found at tragick fhowes. That not a heart which in his leuell came, L 2 Could The Lovers Could fcapethe haile of his all hurting ayme. Shewing faire Nature is both kinde and tame : And valid in them did winne whom he would maime, Againft the thing he fought, he would exclaime. When he moft burnt in hart-wifht luxurie, He preacht pure maide, and praifd cold chaftitie. Thus meerely with the garment of a grace. The naked and concealed feind he couerd. That thVnexperient gaue the tempter place. Which like a Cherubin aboue them houerd. Who young and fimple would not be fo louerd. Aye me I fell, and yet do queftion make. What I fhould doe againe for fuch a fake. O that infefted moyfture of his eye, O that falfe fire which in his cheeke fo glowd : O that forc'd thunder from his heart did flye, O that fad breath his fpungie lungs beftowed, O all that borrowed motion feeming owed. Would yet againe betray the fore-betrayed. And new peruert a reconciled Maide. FINIS.