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POEMS

VENUS AND ADONIS

'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,

EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD.

RIGHT HONOURABLE,

I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden: only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation.

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Your honour's in all duty,

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

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He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks;
Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
To fan and blow them dry again she seeks:

52

He saith she is immodest, blames her miss; What follows more she murders with a kiss. Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone, Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, 57 Till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone; Even so she kiss'd his brow, his cheek, his chin, And where she ends she doth anew begin. 60 Forc'd to content, but never to obey, Panting he lies, and breatheth in her face; She feedeth on the steam, as on a prey, And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace; 64 Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of

flowers,

So they were dew'd with such distilling

showers.

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O! be not proud, nor brag not of thy might, For mastering her that foil'd the god of fight. 'Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,

Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red,The kiss shall be thine own as weil as mine: 117 What seest thou in the ground? hold up thy head:

Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies; Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

120

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Rot and consume themselves in little time. 'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old, Ill-nurtur'd, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, O'erworn, despised, rheumatic, and cold, Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice, Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee;

96

137

But having no defects, why dost abhor me?

VENUS AND ADONIS

'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,

EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD.

RIGHT HONOURABLE,

I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden: only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own I leave it to your honourable wish and the world's hopeful expectation.

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'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know: 16
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses;
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses:
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty, 20
Making them red and pale with fresh variety;
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:

A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.' 24

Your honour's in all duty,

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

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[lust. And govern'd him in strength, though not in So soon was she along, as he was down, Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he Each leaning on their elbows and their hips: 44 And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips; frown, And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,

'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'

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