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Persuade my heart to this falfe perjury,
Vows for thee broke, deferve not punishment.
A woman I forfwore: but I will prove,
Thou being a goddefs, I forfwore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love,
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all difgrace in me.
My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is;
Then thou, fair fun, that on this earth doth shine,
Exhale this vapour vow, in thee it is:

If broken then, it is no fault of mine.

If by me broke, what fool is not fo wife.
To break an oath, to win a paradife?

True Content.

gems;

So is it not with me, as with that muse,
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verfe,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth ufe,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse:
Making a compliment of proud compare
With fun and moon, with earth and fea's rich
With April's firft-born flowers, and all things rare,
That heaven's air, in this huge rondure hems.
O let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, tho' not so bright
As thofe gold candles fix'd in heaven's air.
Let them fay more, that like of hearsay well;
I will not praife, that purpose not to fell.

A Bashful Lover.

As an unperfect actor on the ftage,
Who with his fear is put befides his part;

Or fome fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength abundant weakens his own heart: So I, for fear of truft, forgot to fay

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The perfect ceremony of love's right,
And in mine own love's ftrength feem to decay,
O'ercharg'd with burden of mine own love's might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence,
And dumb prefagers of my speaking breast;
Who plead for love, and look for recompence,
More than that tongue that more hath more expreft.
O learn to read what filent love hath writ!
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

Strong Conceit.

My glass fhall not perfuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou art of one date;
But when in thee time's forrows I behold,
Then look I death my days fhould expiate.
For all that beauty, that doth cover thee,
Is but the feemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breaft doth live, as thine in me,
How can I then be elder than thou art ?
O therefore, love! be of thyfelf fo wary,
As I not for myself, but for thee, will,
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep fo chary,
As tender nurfe her babe from faring ill.

Prefume not on thy heart, when mine is flain;
Thou gav'ft me thine, not to give back again.

A Sweet Provocation.

Sweet Cytherea, fitting by a brook,

With young Adonis, lovely fresh and green,

Did court the lad with many a lovely look,
Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.
She told him ftories, to delight his ears;

She fhow'd him favours, to allure his eye;
To win his heart, fhe touch't him here and there;
Touches fo foft, ftill conquer chastity.
But whether unripe years did want conceit,
Or the refus'd to take her figur'd proffer,
The tender nibbler wou'd not touch the bait,
But fmile and jeft at every gentle offer.

Then fell fhe on her back, fair queen, and toward,
He rose and ran away; ah! fool too froward.

A Conftant Vow.

If love make me forfworn, how fhall I fwear to love? O! never faith cou'd hold, if not to beauty vow'd: Tho' to myself forfworn, to thee I'll conftant prove. Thofe thoughts to me like oaks, tothee like ofiers bow'd Study his byas leaves, and makes his book thineeyes, Where all thofe pleasures live,that art can comprehend. If knowledge be the mark, to know thee fhall fuffice: Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend!

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All ignorant that foul, that fees thee without wonder, Which is to me fome praise, that I thy parts admire : Thine eye Jove's lightning feems, thy voice, his dreadful thunder,

Which (not to anger bent) is mufick and fweet fire. Celeftial as thou art, O! do not love that wrong! To fing heaven's praife with fuch an earthly tongue.

The Exchange.

A woman's face, with nature's own hand painted, Haft thou the mafter, miftrefs of my paffion;

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A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With fhifting change, as is falfe womens fashion.
An eye more bright than theirs, lefs false in rolling :
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth.

A man in hue all hue in his controuling,

Which steals mens eyes, and womens fouls amazeth : And for a woman wer't thou first created.

Till nature, as she wrought thee, fell a doating,
And by addition me of thee defeated;

By adding one thing, to my purpose nothing.
But fince the prick'd thee out for womens pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure.

A Difconfolation.

Weary with toil, I hafte me to my bed,
The dear repofe for limbs with travel tired,
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired.
For then my thoughts (far from where I abide)
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,

And keep my drooping eye-lids open wide,
Looking on darkness, which the blind do fee.
Save that my foul's imaginary fight
Prefents their fhadow to my fightless view;
Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night)
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
Lo! thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself no quiet find.

How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debar'd the benefit of reft?
When day's oppreffion is not eas'd by night,
But day by night, and night by day oppreft?

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And each (tho' enemies to other's reign)
Do in confent fhake hands to torture me;
The one by toil, the other to complain,
How far I toil, ftill farther off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright,
And doft him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the fwart-complexion'd night,
When sparkling ftars tweer out, thou gild'ft th' even.
But day doth daily draw my forrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's length feem
[ftronger.
When in difgrace with fortune and mens eyes
I all alone beweep my out-caft state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootlefs cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate :
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends poffeft;
Defiring this man's art, and that man's fcope,
With what I moft enjoy contented leaft.
Yet in these thoughts, myself almoft defpifing,
Haply I think on thee, and then my ftate,
Like to the lark, at break of day arifing
From fullen earth, to fing at heaven's gate.

For thy fweet love rememb'red, fuch wealth brings,
That then I fcorn to change my ftate with kings.

Cruel Deceit.

Scarce had the fun dry'd up the dewy morn,
And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for fhade,
When Cytherea (all in love forlorn)
A longing tarriance for Adonis made
Under an offer growing by a brook;

A brook, where Adon us'd to cool his spleen.

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