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and those scorching beams to shun, to thy gentle shadow 'run. • 04 ...!If the soul had free election to dispose of her affection
I would not thus long have borne
'T is amazement more than love which her radiant eyes do move: if less splendour wait on thine, yet they so benignly shine, I would turn my dazzled sight to behold their milder light; but as hard 'tis to destroy that high flame as to enjoy ; which how eas❜ly I may do, heav'n (as eas'ly scal'd) does know! Amoret! as sweet and good as the most delicious food, which but tasted does impart life and gladness to the heart., Sacharissa's beauty's wine, which to madness doth incline; such a liquor as no brain that is mortal can sustain.
Scarce can I to Heav'n excuse
the devotion which I use
which I thither ought to send;
which, tho' not so fierce a flame,
Then smile on me, and I will prove wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.
9 TO PHYLLIS. Phyllis! why should we delay pleasures shorter than the day? Could we (which we never can) stretch our lives beyond their span, beauty like a shadow flies, and our youth before us dies. Or would youth and beauty stay, Love hath wings, and will away. Love hath swifter wings than Time, change in love to Heav'n does climb. Gods, that never change their state, vary oft' their love and hate.
Phyllis to this truth we owe all the Love betwixt us two. Let not you and I enquire what has been our past desire;
on what shepherds you have sm ifd : or what nymphs I have beguil'd : leave it to the planets too
what we shall hereafter do ;
for the joys we now may prove, take advice of present love.
TO THE MUTABLE FAIR.
Here, Cælia! for thy sake I part
Fool that I was! so much to prize those simple virtues you despise:" fool! that with such dull arrows strove, or hop'd to reach a flying dove: for you, that are in motion still, decline our force, and mock our skill; who, like Don Quixote, do advance against a windmill our vain lance. Now will I wander through the air, mount, make a stoop at ev'ry fair; and, with a fancy unconfin'd, (as lawless as the sea or wind,) pursue you wheresoe'er you fly, and with your various thoughts comply. The formal stars do travel so,
as we their names and courses know;
by those free vapours are so light,
declining bold Ixion's rape:
she, with her own resemblance, grac'd a shining cloud, which he embrac❜d. Such was that image, so it smil'd with seeming kindness, which beguil'd your Thyrsis lately, when he thought he had his fleeting Calia caught. 'T was shap'd like her; but for the fair, he fill'd his arms with yielding air.
A fate for which he grieves the less, because the gods had like success: for in their story one, we see, pursues a nymph, and takes a tree: a second, with a lover's haste, soon overtakes whom he had chas'd; but she that did a virgin seem, possess'd, appears a wand'ring stream. For his supposed love, a third lays greedy hold upon a bird, and stands amaz'd to find his dear a wild inhabitant of th' air!
To these old tales such nymphs as you give credit, and still make them new; the am'rous now like wonders find in the swift changes of your mind. But, Calia, if you apprehend the Muse of your incensed friend, nor would that he record your blame, and make it live, repeat the same; again deceive him, and again,
and then he swears he'll not complain:
is all the pleasure lovers know;
TO A LADY,
FROM WHOM HE RECEIVED A SILVER PEN.
Madam! intending to have try'd the silver favour which you gave, in ink the shining point I dy'd, and drench'd it in the sable wave; when, griev'd to be so foully stain'd, on you it thus to me complain'd. "Supose you had deserv'd to take from her fair hand so fair a boon, yet how deserved I to make so ill a change, who ever won immortal praise for what I wrote, instructed by her noble thought? I, that expressed her commands to mighty lords and princely dames, always most welcome to their hands, proud that I would record their names, must now be taught an humble style, some meaner beauty to beguile !" So I, the wronged pen to please, make it my humble thanks express unto your Ladyship in these: and now 't is forced to confess that your great self did ne'er endite, nor that, to one more noble, write.
Go, lovely Rose !
tell her that wastes her time and me,
that now she knows,
when I resemble her to thee,
how sweet and fair she seems to be.