Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere
Lightning on him that fixed thee there.

Tempt me with such affrights no more,
Lest what I made I uncreate;
Let fools thy mystic forms adore,

I'll know thee in thy mortal state: Wise poets that wrapped truth in tales, Know her themselves through all her veils.

PARTING, CELIA WEEPS.

Weep not, my dear, for I shall go
Laden enough with my own woe;
Add not thy heaviness to mine;
Since fate our pleasures must disjoin,
Why should our sorrows meet? If I
Must go, and lose thy company,
I wish not theirs; it shall relieve
My grief, to think thou dost not grieve.
Yet grieve, and weep, that I may bear
Every sigh, and every tear
Away with me, so shall thy breast,
And eyes discharged, enjoy their rest:
And it will glad my heart to see
Thou wert thus loath to part with me.

A PRAYER TO THE WIND.

Go, thou gentle whispering wind,
Bear this sigh; and if thou find.
Where my cruel fair doth rest,
Cast it in her snowy breast,

So, inflamed by my desire,

It may set her heart a-fire.

Those sweet kisses thou shalt gain,

Will reward thee for thy pain;
Boldly light upon her lip,

There suck odours, and thence skip

To her bosom; lastly fall

Down, and wander over all;

Range about those ivory hills,
From whose every part distils
Amber dew; there spices grow,
There pure streams of nectar flow;
There perfume thyself, and bring
All those sweets upon thy wing:
As thou return'st, change by thy power
Every weed into a flower;
Turn each thistle to a vine,
Make the bramble eglantine:

For so rich a booty made,

Do but this, and I am paid.

Thou can'st, with thy powerful blast,

Heat apace, and cool as fast;

Thou canst kindle hidden flame,

And again destroy the same;

Then for pity, either stir

Up the fire of love in her,

That alike both flames may shine,

Or else quite extinguish mine.

SONG.

Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep,
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.

Ask me no more whither doth stray
The golden atoms of the day:
For, in pure love, heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.

Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.

Ask me no more where those stars light, That downwards fall in dead of night; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixéd become as in their sphere.

Ask me no more if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.

JAMES GRAHAME,

MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.

1612-1650.

MY DEAR AND ONLY LOVE, I PRAY.

PART FIRST.

My dear and only love I pray
This noble world of thee,
Be governed by no other sway
But purest monarchy.
For if confusion have a part,

Which virtuous souls abhor,
And hold a synod in thy heart,
I'll never love thee more.

Like Alexander I will reign,

And I will reign alone;

My thoughts shall evermore disdain.
A rival on my throne.

He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,

That puts it not unto the touch,
To win or lose it all.

But I must rule and govern still,
And always give the law,
And have each subject at my will,
And all to stand in awe.

But 'gainst my battery if I find
Thou shun'st the prize so sore,
As that thou set'st me up a blind,
I'll never love thee more.

Or in the empire of thy heart,
Where I should solely be,
Another do pretend a part,

And dares to vie with me;

Or if committees thou erect,

And goes on such a score,
I'll sing and laugh at thy neglect,
And never love thee more.

But if thou wilt be constant then,
And faithful of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen,
And famous by my sword.
I'll serve thee in such noble ways

Was never heard before;

I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,

And love thee evermore.

PART SECOND.

[The authenticity of the second part of this beautiful poem has been doubted. I have omitted one stanza, the text of which seems to me hopelessly corrupt.]

My dear and only love take heed,

Lest thou thyself expose,

And let all longing lovers feed

Upon such looks as those.

A marble wall then build about,
Beset without a door;

But if thou let thy heart fly out,
I'll never love thee more.