For,though she be rich and fair,Yet she is both wise and kind,And,therefore,do thou not despair But thy faith may fancy find.
Yet,although she be a queen That may such a snake despise,Yet,with silence all unseen,Run,and hide thee in her eyes:
Where if she will let thee die,Yet at latest gasp of breath,Say that in a lady's eye Love both took his life and death.
POEM:A REMEDY FOR LOVE
Philoclea and Pamela sweet,By chance,in one great house did meet;And meeting,did so join in heart,That th'one from th'other could not part:
And who indeed (not made of stones)
Would separate such lovely ones?
The one is beautiful,and fair As orient pearls and rubies are;And sweet as,after gentle showers,The breath is of some thousand flowers:
For due proportion,such an air Circles the other,and so fair,That it her brownness beautifies,And doth enchant the wisest eyes.
Have you not seen,on some great day,Two goodly horses,white and bay,Which were so beauteous in their pride,You knew not which to choose or ride?
Such are these two;you scarce can tell,Which is the daintier bonny belle;And they are such,as,by my troth,I had been sick with love of both,And might have sadly said,'Good-night Discretion and good fortune quite;'
But that young Cupid,my old master,Presented me a sovereign plaster:
Mopsa!ev'n Mopsa!(precious pet)
Whose lips of marble,teeth of jet,Are spells and charms of strong defence,To conjure down concupiscence.
How oft have I been reft of sense,By gazing on their excellence,But meeting Mopsa in my way,And looking on her face of clay,Been healed,and cured,and made as sound,As though I ne'er had had a wound?
And when in tables of my heart,Love wrought such things as bred my smart,Mopsa would come,with face of clout,And in an instant wipe them out.
And when their faces made me sick,Mopsa would come,with face of brick,A little heated in the fire,And break the neck of my desire.
Now from their face I turn mine eyes,But (cruel panthers!)they surprise Me with their breath,that incense sweet,Which only for the gods is meet,And jointly from them doth respire,Like both the Indies set on fire:
Which so o'ercomes man's ravished sense,That souls,to follow it,fly hence.
No such-like smell you if you range To th'Stocks,or Cornhill's square Exchange;There stood I still as any stock,Till Mopsa,with her puddle dock,Her compound or electuary,Made of old ling and young canary,Bloat-herring,cheese,and voided physic,Being somewhat troubled with a phthisic,Did cough,and fetch a sigh so deep,As did her very bottom sweep:
Whereby to all she did impart,How love lay rankling at her heart:
Which,when I smelt,desire was slain,And they breathed forth perfumes in vain.
Their angel voice surprised me now;
But Mopsa,her Too-whit,Too-whoo,Descending through her oboe nose,Did that distemper soon compose.
And,therefore,O thou precious owl,The wise Minerva's only fowl;What,at thy shrine,shall I devise To offer up a sacrifice?
Hang AEsculapius,and Apollo,And Ovid,with his precious shallow.
Mopsa is love's best medicine,True water to a lover's wine.
Nay,she's the yellow antidote,Both bred and born to cut Love's throat:
Be but my second,and stand by,Mopsa,and I'll them both defy;And all else of those gallant races,Who wear infection in their faces;For thy face (that Medusa's shield!)
Will bring me safe out of the field.
POEM:VERSES
To the tune of the Spanish song,"Si tu senora no ducles de mi."O fair!O sweet!when I do look on thee,In whom all joys so well agree,Heart and soul do sing in me.
This you hear is not my tongue,Which once said what I conceived;For it was of use bereaved,With a cruel answer stung.
No!though tongue to roof be cleaved,Fearing lest he chastised be,Heart and soul do sing in me.
O fair!O sweet!when I do look on thee,In whom all joys so well agree,Just accord all music makes;In thee just accord excelleth,Where each part in such peace dwelleth,One of other beauty takes.
Since then truth to all minds telleth,That in thee lives harmony,Heart and soul do sing in me.
O fair!O sweet!when I do look on thee,In whom all joys so well agree,They that heaven have known do say,That whoso that grace obtaineth,To see what fair sight there reigneth,Forced are to sing alway:
So then since that heaven remaineth In thy face,I plainly see,Heart and soul do sing in me.
O fair!O sweet!when I do look on thee,In whom all joys so well agree,Sweet,think not I am at ease,For because my chief part singeth;This song from death's sorrow springeth:
As to swan in last disease:
For no dumbness,nor death,bringeth Stay to true love's melody:
Heart and soul do sing in me.
POEM:TRANSLATION
From Horace,Book II.Ode X.,beginning "Rectius vives,Licini,"&c.
You better sure shall live,not evermore Trying high seas;nor,while sea's rage you flee,Pressing too much upon ill-harboured shore.
The golden mean who loves,lives safely free From filth of foreworn house,and quiet lives,Released from court,where envy needs must be.
The wind most oft the hugest pine tree grieves:
The stately towers come down with greater fall:
The highest hills the bolt of thunder cleaves.
Evil haps do fill with hope,good haps appall With fear of change,the courage well prepared:
Foul winters,as they come,away they shall.
Though present times,and past,with evils be snared,They shall not last:with cithern silent Muse,Apollo wakes,and bow hath sometime spared.
In hard estate,with stout shows,valour use,The same man still,in whom wisdom prevails;In too full wind draw in thy swelling sails.
POEM:A SONNET BY SIR EDWARD DYER
Prometheus,when first from heaven high He brought down fire,till then on earth not seen;Fond of delight,a satyr,standing by,Gave it a kiss,as it like sweet had been.
Feeling forthwith the other burning power,Wood with the smart,with shouts and shrieking shrill,He sought his ease in river,field,and bower;But,for the time,his grief went with him still.
