XLIV. If the dull fubftance of my flesh were thought, But heavy tears, badges of either's woe. XLV. The other two, flight air and purging fire, My life, being made of four, with two alone By those swift messengers return'd from thee, This told, I joy; but then no longer glad, XLVI. Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war, A queft of thoughts, all tenants to the heart; The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part: XLVII. Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, Or heart in love with fighs himself doth smother, And in his thoughts of love doth share a part: Thyself away art present ftill with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canft move, And I am still with them and they with thee; Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight. XLVIII. How careful was I, when I took my way, Each trifle under trueft bars to thrust, That to my use it might unused stay From hands of falsehood, in fure wards of truft! Moft worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, Thee have I not lock'd up in any cheft, Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part ; For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear. |