Love is my fin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my fin, grounded on finful loving:
O, but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;
Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
And feal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovest those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:
Root pity in thy heart, that, when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou doft feek to have what thou doft hide,
By felf-example mayft thou be denied!
Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
One of her feather'd creatures broke away,
Sets down her babe, and makes all swift despatch
In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;
Whilft her neglected child holds her in chase,
Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
To follow that which flies before her face,
Not prizing her poor infant's discontent :
So runn'ft thou after that which flies from thee,
Whilft I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind :
So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
If thou turn back and my loud crying still.
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do fuggeft me ftill:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worfer spirit a woman colour'd ill.
To win me foon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my fide,
And would corrupt my faint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
Sufpe& I may, yet not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell:
Yet this fhall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
Thofe lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the found that faid 'I hate,'
To me that languish'd for her fake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
'I hate' fhe alter'd with an end,
That follow'd it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who, like a fiend,
From heaven to hell is flown away;
'I hate' from hate away fhe threw, And saved my life, saying—Not you.'
Poor foul, the centre of my finful earth,
[Preff'd by] these rebel powers that thee array,
Why doft thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls fo costly gay?
Why fo large coft, having fo fhort a lease,
Doft thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
Then, foul, live thou upon thy fervant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So fhalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
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