PHINEAS AND GILES FLETCHER. 161 To deck his beauteous head in snowy 'tire; But all in vain for who can hope t' aspire To such a Fair, which none attain, but all admire ? Her ruby lips lock up from gazing sight A troop of pearls, which march in goodly row: But when she deigns those precious bones undight, Soon heav'nly notes from those divisions flow, And with rare musick charm the ravish'd ears, Daunting bold thoughts, but cheering modest fears: The spheres so only sing, so only charm the spheres. Her dainty breasts, like to an April rose And fairly spread their silver circlets round: From those two bulwarks love doth safely fight; Which swelling easily, may seem to sight To be enwombed both of pleasure and delight. Yet all these stars which deck this beauteous sky As when a taper shines in glassy frame, The sparkling crystal burns in glitt'ring flame, So does that brightest love brighten this lovely dame. MUTABILITY OF HUMAN GREATNESS. [From the Purple Island.] FOND man, that looks on earth for happiness, And here long seeks what here is never found! For all our good we hold from Heav'n by lease, With many forfeits and conditions bound; Nor can we pay the fine, and rentage due: Though now but writ, and seal'd, and giv'n anew, Yet daily we it break, then daily must renew. Why shouldst thou here look for perpetual good, And loving pelican in fancy breeds : There screeching satyrs fill the people's empty stedes. (a) Where is the Assyrian lion's golden hide, That all the east once grasp'd in lordly paw? Where that great Persian bear, whose swelling pride The lion's self tore out with rav'nous jaw? Or he which 'twixt a lion and a pard, Through all the world with nimble pinions far'd, And to his greedy whelps his conquer'd kingdoms shar'd. (a) Places. BEN JONSON. BORN ABOUT 1570-DIED 1637. TO CELIA. KISSE me, sweet: the wary lover Hundred, then unto the tother When youths ply their stoln delights. SONG TO CELIA. DRINK to me only with thine eyes, I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath, But thou thereon did'st only breathe, Since when, it growes, and smells, I sweare, THE SWEET NEGLECT. STILL to be neat, still to be drest Though art's hid causes are not found, Than all th' adulteries of art; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart. TO THE WORLD. A FAREWELL FOR A GENTLEWOMAN, VIRTUOUS AND NOBLE. FALSE world, good night, since thou hast brought Upon thy throat, and live exempt From all the nets that thou canst spread. I know thy formes are studied arts, Thy subtill wayes, be narrow straits; And what thou call'st thy gifts are baits. I know thou whole art but a shop Of toyes, and trifles, traps, and snares, To take the weake, or make them stop: Yet art thou falser than thy wares. And, knowing this, should I yet stay, Like such as blow away their lives, And never will redeme a day, Enamor'd of their golden gyves? Or having scap'd, shall I returne, And thrust my neck into the noose, |