The text of 1660 A.D.

FROM the fair Lavinian shore,
I, your markets come to store!
Muse not, though so far I dwell;
And my wares come here to sell.
Such is the sacred hunger of gold!

Then come to my pack, while I cry, 'What d' ye lack?
What d'ye buy? For here, it is to be sold!'

Will you buy any honesty? Come away,
I sell it openly by day!

I bring no forcèd lights, nor candle,
To cozen you! Come, buy, and handle!

This will shew the Great Man good!

The Tradesman, where he swears and lies!

The Lady of a noble blood,

The City Dame, to rule her eyes!

You are rich men now, come, buy; and then
I will make you richer honest men!

In the 1669 text, the second stanza above is omitted; and is replaced by the two following stanzas.

I have Beauty! Honour! Grace!
Fortune! Favour! Time! and Place!
And what else thou wouldst request;
Even the thing thou likest best!

First, let me have but a touch of thy gold;
Then come to me, lad!

Thou shalt have, what thy dad

Never gave; for here it is to be sold!

Madam, come, see what you lack!
Here's complexion in my pack!

White and red, you may have in this place;
To hide your old ill-wrinkled face!

First, let me have but a touch of thy gold;
Then shalt thou seem

Like a wench of fifteen;
Although thou be threescore years old!

EXCUSE FOR ABSENCE.

YOU'LL ask, perhaps, Wherefore I stay,
Loving so much, so long away?
Do not think, 'twas I did part!
It was my body; not my heart!
For, like a compass, in your love
One foot is fixed, that cannot move!
Th' other may follow the blind guide
Of giddy Fortune; but not slide
Beyond your service: nor dares venture
To wander far from you, the centre!

TO HIS MISTRESS.

Do not unjustly blame
My guiltless breast;

For vent'ring to disclose a flame,
It had so long supprest!

In its own ashes, it designed

For ever to have lain ;

But that my sighs, like blasts of wind,
Made it break out again!

TO THE SAME.

Do not mine affection slight,

'Cause my locks, with age, are white!

Your breasts have snow without, and snow within; While flames of fire, in your bright eyes are seen!

THE ANGLER'S WISH.

I IN these flowery meads would be;
These crystal streams should solace me!
To whose harmonious bubbling noise,
I, with my Angle, would rejoice!
Sit here, and see the turtle-dove
Court his chaste mate to acts of love;
Or on that bank, feel the west wind
Breathe health and plenty! Please my mind,
To see sweet dewdrops kiss these flowers;
And then washed off by April showers!
Here, hear my CLORA sing a Song!
There, see a blackbird feed her young;
Or a laverock build her nest!

Here, give my weary spirits rest;
And raise my low-pitched thoughts above
Earth, or what poor mortals love!
Thus, free from lawsuits and the noise
Of Princes' Courts, I would rejoice!

Or with my BRYAN, and a book,
Loiter long days near Shawford brook;
There, sit by him, and eat my meat!
There, see the sun both rise and set!
There, bid good morning to next day!
There, meditate my time away!
And Angle on; and beg to have
A quiet passage to a welcome grave!

RESOLVED TO BE BELOVED.

'Tis true, I have loved already three, or four; And shall three, or four, hundred more! I'll love each Fair One that I see;

Till I find one, at last, that shall love me!

That shall my Canaan be! The fatal soil
That ends my wand'rings, and my toil!
I'll settle there, and happy grow:

The country does with milk and honey flow!

The needle trembles so, and turns about,

Till it the Northern Point find out :

But constant then and fixed does prove! Fixed that his dearest Pole as soon may move!

Then may my vessel torn and shipwrecked be, If it put forth again to sea!

It never more abroad shall roam; [home! Though 't could, next voyage, bring the Indies

But I must sweat in Love! and labour yet
Till I a competency get.

They're slothful fools; who leave a trade, Till they a moderate fortune by 't have made!

Variety, I ask not! Give me One
To live perpetually upon!

The person Love does to us fit,

Like manna, hath the taste of all in it!