THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM,

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D'Gift when the world cannot hold argument,

ID not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,

Persuade my heart to this falfe perjury?
Vows for thee broke deferve not punishment,
A woman J 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 disgrace in me.
My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is ;

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Then thou fair fun, which on my earth doft shine, 19
Exhal'ft 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 paradise ?
II.

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 ear;

She fhew'd him favours to allure his eye:

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To win his heart, fhe touch'd him here and there:
Touches fo foft still conquer chastity.

But whether unripe years did want conceit,
Or he refus'd to take her figur'd proffer,

The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,
But fmile and jeft at every gentle offer:

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

III.

If love make me forfworn, how shall I swear to love? O never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd: 30 Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll conftant prove; Those thoughts to me like oaks, to thee like ofiers bow'd. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Where all those pleasures live, that art can comprehend.

If knowledge be the mark, to know thee fhall fuffice; 35 Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend; All ignorant that foul that fees thee without wonder; Which is to me fome praife, that I thy parts admire; Thine eye Jove's lightning feems, thy voice his dreadful thunder,

Which (not to anger bent) is music and sweet fire. 40 Celestial as thou art, O do not love that wrong,

To fing the heavens' praise with such an earthly tongue.

IV.

Scarce had the fun dried up the dewy morn,

And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,
When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,
A longing tarriance for Adonis made,
Under an ofier growing by a brook,

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A brook, where Adon us'd to cool his fpleen.
Hot was the day; fhe hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been.
Anon he comes and throws his mantle by,
And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim;

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The fun look'd on the world with glorious eye,
Yet not fo wiftly, as this queen on him :

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He spying her, bounc'd in, whereat he stood;
"Oh Jove," quoth fhe," why was not I a flood!"

V.

Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty,
Brighter than glass, and yet, as glafs is, brittle,
Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rufty;
A little pale, with damask dye to grace her,
None fairer, nor one falfer to deface her.

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Her lips to mine how often hath she join'd,

Between each kifs her oaths of true love fwearing! How many tales to please me hath the coin'd, Dreading my love, the lofs whereof still fearing! Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,

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Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jeftings.

She burnt with love, as ftraw with fire flameth,

She burnt with love, as foon as ftraw out burneth; 70
She fram'd the love, and yet fhe foil'd the framing,
She bade love laft, and yet fhe fell a turning.

Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?
Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.
VI.

If mufic and fweet poetry agree,

As they must needs, the fifter and the brother,
Then muft the love be great 'twixt thee and me,
Becaufe thou lov'ft the one, and I the other.
Downland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;
Spenfer to me, whofe deep conceit is fuch,
As paffing all conceit, needs no defence.

Thou lov'ft, to hear the fweet melodious found,
That Phoebus' lute, the queen of mufic, makes:
And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd,
When as himself to finging he betakes.
One god is god of both, as poets feign;

One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.

VII.

Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love.

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Paler for forrow than her milk white dove,
For Adon's fake, a youngster proud and wild;
Her ftand she takes upon a steep-up hill;
Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;
She filly queen, with more than love's good will,
Forbade the boy he fhould not pass thofe grounds; 95
"Once," quoth fhe, "did I fee a fair fweet youth
"Here in thefe brakes deep wounded with a boar,

Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!

"See in my thigh," quoth fhe, "here was the fore:" She fhewed her's; he faw more wounds, than one, 100 And blushing fled, and left her all alone.

VIII.

Sweet rofe, fair flower, untimely pluck'd foon faded,
Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the fpring!
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Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded!
Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp fting!
Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,
And falls, through wind, before the fall fhould be.

I weep for thee, and yet no caufe I have;
For why? thou left'ft me nothing in thy will.
And yet thou left'ft me more than I did crave;
For why? I craved nothing of thee still:
O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee;
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.

IX.

Fair Venus, with Adonis fitting by her,
Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him:

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She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,
And as he fell to her, fhe fell to him.

[me;"

"E'en thus," quoth fhe, "the warlike god embrac'd

And then she clipt Adonis in her arms:

[me,"

"E'en thus," quoth fhe, "the warlike god unlac'd

As if the boy should use like loving charms.

"E'en thus," quoth fhe," he feized on my lips,"
And with her lips on his did act the seizure;
And as fhe fetched breath, away he skips,

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And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure. 125 Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,

To kifs and clip me till I run away!

Crabbed age and youth,
Cannot live together;
Youth is full of pleafance,
Age is full of care:

Youth like fummer morn,
Age like winter weather
Youth like fummer brave,

X.

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Age like winter bare.

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Youth is full of sport,

Age's breath is short,

Youth is nimble, age is lame;

Youth is hot and bold,

Age is weak and cold;

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Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth I do adore thee;
O, my love, my love is

Age I do defy thee;

young:

O fweet fhepherd, hie thee,

For methinks thou ftay'ft too long.

XI.

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,

A fhining glofs that fadeth fuddenly;

A flower that dies, when firft it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glafs, that's broken presently:
A doubtful good, a glofs, a glass, a flower,
Loft, faded, broken, dead within an hour.

And as good loft are feld or never found,
As faded glofs no rubbing will refresh,
As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground,
As broken glass no cement can redress,
So beauty blemish'd once, for ever's loft,
In fpite of phyfic, painting, pain, and cost.

XII.

Good night, good reft. Ah! neither be my share :
She bade good night, that kept my reft away;
And daft me to a cabbin hang'd with care,
To defcant on the doubts of my decay.

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"Farewel," quoth fhe," and come again to morrow;" Farewel, I could not, for I fupp'd with forrow. 165

Yet at my parting fweetly fhe did smile,
In fcorn or friendfhip, nill I construe whether :
May be, the joy'd to jest at my exile,
May be, again to make me wander thither :
Wander, a word for fhadows like myself,
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.

XIII.

Lord how mine eyes threw gazes to the east!
My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rife
Doth cite each moving fenfe from idle rest.
Not daring truft the office of mine eyes,

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