« PreviousContinue »
E nought dismayd that her unmoved mind Doth still persist in her rebellious pride: Such love, not lyke to lusts of baser kynd, The harder wonne, the firmer will abide. The durefull Oake, whose sap is not yet dride, Is long ere it conceive the kindling fyre; But, when it once doth burne, it doth divide Great heat, and makes his flames to heaven aspire. So hard it is to kindle new desire
In gentle brest, that shall endure for ever:
Deepe is the wound, that dints the parts entire
AYRE eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart,
Into the object of your mighty view!
That your bright beams, of my weak eies admyred,
Such life should be the honor of your light,
ORE then most faire, full of the living fire
That to the world naught else be counted deare!
ONG-WHILE I sought to what I might
Those powrefull eies, which lighten my dark
Yet find I nought on earth to which I dare
Whose light doth lighten all that here we see.
NRIGHTEOUS Lord of love, what law is this,
That me thou makest thus tormented be, The whiles she lordeth in licentious blisse Of her freewill, scorning both thee and me? See! how the Tyrannesse doth joy to see The huge massacres which her eyes do make, And humbled harts brings captives unto thee, That thou of them mayst mightie vengeance take. But her proud hart doe thou a little shake, And that high look, with which she doth comptroll All this worlds pride, bow to a baser make, And al her faults in thy black booke enroll: That I may laugh at her, in equall sort
As she doth laugh at me, and makes my pain her sport.
AYLY when I do seeke and sew for peace,
She, cruell warrióur, doth her selfe addresse
All paine hath end, and every war hath peace.
NE day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies
A wicked ambush which lay hidden long,
Thence breaking forth, did thick about me throng.
So, Ladie, now to you I doo complaine,
N that proud port, which her so goodly graceth,
Whiles her faire face she reares up to the
And to the ground her eie-lids low embaseth,
Whatso is fayrest shall to earth returne:
But that same lofty countenance seemes to scorne
ETOURNE agayne, my forces late dismayd, Unto the siege by you abandon'd quite. Great shame it is to leave, like one afrayd, So fayre a peece, for one repulse so light. 'Gaynst such strong castles needeth greater might Then those small forts which ye were wont belay: Such haughty mynds, enur'd to hardy fight, Disdayne to yield unto the first assay. Bring therefore all the forces that ye may, And lay incessant battery to her heart; Playnts, prayers, vowes, ruth, sorrow, and dismay: Those engins can the proudest love convert; And, if those fayle, fall down and dy before her; So dying live, and living do adore her.
E tradefull Merchants, that with weary toyle
And both the Indias of their treasure spoile,
If Pearles, hir teeth be pearles, both pure and round;
If Gold, her locks are finest gold on ground;