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Though constant and consistent now it be,
Yet, when kind beams appear,

It melts, and glides apace into the sea,
And loses itself there.

So the sun's amorous play

Kisses the ice away.

You may in vulgar loves find always this;
But my substantial love

Of a more firm and perfect nature is;
No weathers can it move:
Though heat dissolve the ice again,
The crystal solid does remain.

ENJOYMENT.

THEN like some wealthy island thou shalt lie, And like the sea about it, I;

Thou, like fair Albion to the sailors' sight, Spreading her beauteous bosom all in white; Like the kind Ocean I will be,

With loving arms for ever clasping thee.

But I'll embrace thee gentlier far than so;
As their fresh banks soft rivers do:
Nor shall the proudest planet boast a power
Of making my full love to ebb one hour;
It never dry or low can prove,
Whilst thy unwasted fountain feeds

my love.

Such heat and vigour shall our kisses bear,
As if like doves we' engender'd there:
No bound nor rule my pleasures shall endure,
In love there's none too much an Epicure:

Nought shall my hands or lips control;

I'll kiss thee through, I'll kiss thy very soul.

Yet nothing but the night our sports shall know;
Night, that's both blind and silent too!
Alphæus found not a more secret trace,
His loved Sicanian fountain to embrace,
Creeping so far beneath the sea,
Than I will do to' enjoy and feast on thee.

Men, out of wisdom; women, out of pride,
The pleasant thefts of love do hide :

That may secure thee; but thou 'ast yet from me
A more infallible security;

For there's no danger I should tell The joys which are to me unspeakable.

SLEEP.

In vain, thou drowsy God! I thee invoke;
For thou, who dost from fumes arise-
Thou, who man's soul dost overshade
With a thick cloud by vapours made-
Canst have no power to shut his eyes,
Or passage of his spirits to choke,
Whose flame's so pure that it sends up no smoke.

Yet how do tears but from some vapours rise?
Tears, that bewinter all my year?

The fate of Egypt I sustain,

And never feel the dew of rain,
From clouds which in the head appear;

But all my too much moisture owe

To overflowings of the heart below,

Thou, who dost men (as nights to colours do)

Bring all to an equality!

Come, thou just God! and equal me

Awhile to my disdainful She:
In that condition let me lie,

Till Love does the favour show:

Love equals all a better way than you.

Then never more shalt thou be' invoked by me;
Watchful as spirits and Gods I'll prove :
Let her but grant, and then will I
Thee and thy kinsman Death defy;
For, betwixt thee and them that love,
Never will an agreement be;

Thou scorn'st the' unhappy, and the happy, thee!

BEAUTY.

BEAUTY! thou wild fantastic ape,

Who dost in every country change thy shape! Here black, there brown, here tawny, and there

white;

Thou flatterer! which comply'st with every sight!
Thou Babel, which confound'st the eye
With unintelligible variety!

Who hast no certain What, nor Where;
But vary'st still, and dost thyself declare
Inconstant, as thy she-professors are.

Beauty! Love's scene and masquerade, So gay by well-placed lights and distance made! False coin, with which the' impostor cheats us still; The stamp and colour good, but metal ill!

Which light or base we find, when we Weigh by enjoyment, and examine thee!

For, though thy being be but show,

'Tis chiefly night which men to thee allow :

And choose to enjoy thee, when thou least art Thou.

Beauty! thou active, passive ill !

Which diest thyself as fast as thou dost kill!
Thou tulip, who thy stock in paint dost waste,
Neither for physic good, nor smell, nor taste.
Beauty! whose flames but meteors are,
Short-lived and low, though thou wouldst seem a
Who darest not thine own home descry, [star;
Pretending to dwell richly in the eye,
When thou, alas! dost in the fancy lie.

Beauty! whose conquests still are made
O'er hearts by cowards kept, or else betray'd;
Weak victor! who thyself destroy'd must be
When Sickness storms, or Time besieges thee!
Thou' unwholesome thaw to frozen age!
Thou strong wine, which youth's fever dost enrage!
Thou tyrant, which leavest no man free!
Thou subtle thief, from whom nought safe can be!
Thou murderer, which hast kill'd, and devil, which
wouldst damn me!

THE PARTING.

As men in Greenland left beheld the sun
From their horizon run,

And thought upon the sad half-year

Of cold and darkness they must suffer there:

So on my parting mistress did I look ;

With such swoln eyes my farewell took ; fair star! said I;

Ah, my

[fly!

Ah, those bless'd lands to which bright Thou dost

In vain the men of learning comfort me,
And say I'm in a warm degree;

Say what they please, I say and swear
"Tis beyond eighty' at least, if you're not here.
It is, it is; I tremble with the frost,

And know that I the day have lost;

And those wild things which men they call,
I find to be but bears or foxes all.

Return, return, gay planet of mine East,
Of all that shines thou much the best!
And, as thou now descend'st to sea,
More fair and fresh rise up from thence to me!

Thou, who in many a propriety,

So truly art the sun to me,

Add one more likeness (which I'm sure you can) And let me and my sun beget a man!

MY PICTURE,

HERE, take my likeness with

you,

For, when from hence you go,

The next sun's rising will behold
Me pale, and lean, and old;

whilst 'tis so;

The man who did this picture draw,

Will swear next day my face he never saw.

I really believe, within a while,

If you upon this shadow smile,

Your presence will such vigour give

(Your presence, which makes all things live!) And absence so much alter me,

This will the substance, I the shadow, be.

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