Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Where every something, being blents together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,

Express'd, and not express'd.

263

9-iii. 2.

O rejoice,

1-v. 1.

Beyond a common joy; and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars.

264

I could weep,

And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy.

265

28-ii. 1.

O my soul's joy!

If after every tempest come such calms,

May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas,
Olympus-high; and duck again as low

As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.

266

Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up.

37-ii. 1.

27-i. 2.

267

His flaw'd heart,

(Alack, too weak the conflict to support!)

'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,

Burst smilingly.

268

34-v. 3.

If the measure of thy joy

Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagined happiness, that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

[blocks in formation]

35-ii. 6.

269

The course of true love never did run smooth;
But, either it was different in blood;
Or else misgraffed, in respect of years;
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends:
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it;
Making it momentary as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied1 night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say-Behold!
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:

So quick bright things come to confusion.

270

7-i. I.

O that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded; my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal.

k

That same wicked brat of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of madness; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes, because his own are out, let him be judge, how deep I am in love. 10-iv. 1.

271

O hard-believing love! how strange it seems
Not to believe, and yet too credulous!
Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes,
Despair and hope make thee ridiculous!

The one doth flatter thee, in thoughts unlikely,
With likely thoughts, the other kills thee quickly.

272

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully;
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world.

Poems.

35-ii. 2.

i Black.

* Melancholy.

273

Farewell, one eye yet looks on thee;
But with my heart the other eye doth see.
Ah! poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind:
What error leads, must err; O then conclude,
Minds, sway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude.

274

26-v. 2.

We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo.

275

She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd;
And I loved her, that she did pity them.

276

Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone,
Which three, till now, never kept seat in one.

277

We make woe wanton with this fond delay:
Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.

278

On a day, (alack the day!)

Love, whose month is ever May,

Spied a blossom, passing fair,

Playing in the wanton air:

Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,

Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But alack my hand is sworn,
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.

7-ii. 2.

37-i. 3.

Poems.

17-v. 1.

Do not call it sin in me,

That I am forsworn for thee:

Thou, for whom even Jove would swear,
Juno but an Ethiop were;

And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.

279

Love's heralds should be thoughts,

8-iv. 3.

Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over low'ring hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

280

O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

281

35-ii. 5.

2-i. 3.

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower, when next we meet.

282

35-ii. 2.

How silver-sweet sound lover's tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!

283

35-ii. 2.

Love like a shadow flies, when substance love
Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.

284

Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.

pursues;

3-ii. 2.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind;
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste:
And therefore is Love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
So the boy Love is perjured every where.

7-i. 1.

285

O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,
In thee ĥath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
How coldly those impediments stand forth
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame?
Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense,
'gainst shame;

And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.

286

Poems.

Love's counsellors should fill the bores of hearing, To the smothering of the sense.

287

Love is blind, and lovers cannot see

31-iii. 2.

The pretty follies that themselves commit.

9-ii. 6.

288

Tell me, where is Fancy1 bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?

It is engender'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and Fancy dies

In the cradle where it lies.

289

Love is full of unbefitting strains;

9-iii. 2.

All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye
Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance.

290

Love is a smoke raised with a fume of sighs;
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

1 Love.

8-v. 2.

« AnteriorContinuar »