but many harts may be perhaps alike:

Therefore of mine, the proper markes, are theise.
It is not hard, though true as steele it be,
And like ye diomond, cleare from any spot;
Transmixt with many darts you shall it se[e],
but all by vertue, not by Cupid, shot;

It hath no wings, because it needeth none,
Being now arived and settled where it would;
Wingèd desires and hopes from it gon are,
but it is full of joyes as it can hold.

Faine would I find it where it doth remaine,
but would not haue it though I might againe.

UPON A PAIRE OF GARTERS.

Go loveinge woode-bynde, clip with louely grace,

those two sweet plants which beare ye flowers of loue ;

Go silken vines, those tender elmes embrace,

Which flourish still, although their roots doe moue.

As soone as you possess your blessed places,

You are advanced and ennobled more
Then dyodemes, which were white silken laces
That ancient kings about there forehead wore :

Sweete bands, take heed lest you vnge[n]tly bynd,
Or with your stricktnes make too deepe a print :
Was neuer tree had such a tinder rynd,
Although her inward hart be hard as flynt;
And let your knots be fast, and loose at will,
she must be free, though I stand bounden still.

[TO HIS LADY-LOVE.]

IN this sweete booke, ye treasury of witt,

IN

All virtues, beautyes, passions, written be
And with such life they are sett forth in it
as still methinkes yt which I read I see.
But this booke's Mrs. is a liveing booke,
Which hath indeed those vertues in her mynde,
And in whose face though envey's selfe do looke,
Even envye's eye shall all those beautyes fynd.
Onely ye passions y are printed here,

In her calme thoughts can no impression make:
She will not love, nor hate, nor hope, nor feare,
Though others seeke theise passions for her sake.
So in ye sonne, some say there is no heate
though his reflecting beames doe fire begett.

[TOBACCO.]

HOMER of Moly and Nepenthe singes:

Moly, the gods most soveraigne hearbe divine. Nepenth Hellen's drink, which gladnes brings,— Hart's greife repells, and doth ye witts refine.

But this our age another world hath found,

From whence an hearbe of heavenly power is brought :

Moly is not soe soveraigne for a wound

Nor hath Nepenth[e] so great wonders wrought.

It is tobacco: whose sweete subtile fume
The hellish torment of ye teeth doth ease,
By drawing downe and drieing up ye rume9
The mother and the nurse of each disease.1

6 Cf. Harleian MS. lines Of Tobacco' in Epigrams pp. 32-35, ante. G. 7 Miswritten 'Honnour.' G. 3 Cf. an Epigram Of Tobacco,' 36. The first edition thereof in its reading 'Hekens' is an obvious misprint, probably through Davies' ill writing. The reading here 'Nepen ye Hellens' in the MS. is a scribe's misreading of 'Nepenthe Hellen's '—he having taken the ending 'the' for the article. Both point to the true reading, 'Nepenthe Helen's drink.' It is impossible that a scholar like Davies could have supposed 'Nepenthe' to be the drink of the gods, and equally impossible that he could have thought it drink of the Hellenes. G. 9 Rheum. G.

1 The handwriting of the six preceding pieces seems to be the

ELEGIES OF LOUE.

LIKE as the diuers-fretchled2 Butter-flye,

When Winter's frost is fallne upon his winge,

Hath onely left life's possibility,

and lies halfe dead untill the cherefull Spring:

But then the Sunne from his all-quickning eye,
Darts forth a sparkle of the liuinge fire:

Which3 with kinde heate, doth warme the frozen flye and with newe spirit his little breast inspire:

Then doth hee lightly rise and spread his winges,
And with the beames that gaue him life doth playe:
Tasts euery flower that on th' earthe's bosoome springs,
and is in busye motion all the day:

Soe my gaye Muse, which did my heart possesse,
And in my youthful fantasie doth raigne :

Which cleard my forehead with her cheerefullnes

and gaue a liuely warmth unto my brayne:

2 =freckled? G.

3 Miswritten with which.' G. 6

4 Miswritten 'they.' G.

With sadder studye, and with graue conceite
Which late my Immagination entertaynd:
Beganne to shrinke, and loose her actiue heate,
and dead as in a lethargy remaynd.

Long in that senseles sleepe congeald shee laye,
Untill euen now another heauenly eye,
And cleare as that which doth begett the daye,
and of a like reviuinge simpathy:

Did cast into my eyes a subtile beame,
Which peirieinge deepe, into my fancy went,
And did awake my muse out of her dreame,
and unto her new life and vertue lent:

Soe that shee now begins to raise her eyes
Which yett are dazled with her beautye's raye;
And to record her wonted melodyes,

Although at first shee bee not full so gaye.

See Vol. I., p. 160, and related Note in Post6 Sic not peircinge. G.