THE SAME

F thy soul check thee that I come so near,

IF

Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy ‘Will,' And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there; Thus far for love my love-suit, Sweet, fulfil.

'Will' will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
In things of great receipt with ease we prove
Among a number one is reckon'd none :

Then in the number let me pass untold,
Though in thy stores' account I one must be ;
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:

Make but my name thy love, and love that still, And then thou lovest me, for my name is 'Will.'

BLIND LOVE

THOU blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine

eyes,

That they behold, and see not what they see?
They know what beauty is, see where it lies,

Yet what the best is take the worst to be.

If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks

Be anchor'd in the day where all men ride,
Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forgéd hooks,
Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?

Why should my heart think that a several plot Which my heart knows the wide world's common place?

Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not,

To put fair truth upon so foul a face?

In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd, And to this false plague are they now transferr❜d.

CHERISHED FALSEHOOD

WHEN my

truth

Love swears that she is made of

I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor❜d youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.

Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue :
On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.

But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told :

Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

O,

HOPE AGAINST HOPE

CALL not me to justify the wrong

That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;

Use power with power and slay me not by art.

Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere, but in my sight,

Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside : What need'st thou wound with cunning, when thy might

Is more than my o'er-press'd defence can bide?

Let me excuse thee: ah! my Love well knows
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries :

Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain.

A LAST PLEA

E wise as thou art cruel; do not press

BE

My tongue-tied patience with too much dis

dain;

Lest sorrow lend me words and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
Though not to love, yet, Love, to tell me so;
As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know;

For if I should despair, I should grow mad,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee :
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.

That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.