Part 15

108. TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANY THING

Bid me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be; Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee.

A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou canst find, That heart I'll give to thee.

Bid that heart stay, and it will stay To honour thy decree; Or bid it languish quite away, And't shall do so for thee.

Bid me to weep, and I will weep, While I have eyes to see; And having none, yet I will keep A heart to weep for thee.

Bid me despair, and I'll despair, Under that cypress tree; Or bid me die, and I will dare E'en death, to die for thee.

--Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me; And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee.

109. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION

Anthea laugh'd, and, fearing lest excess Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness She with a dainty blush rebuked her face, And call'd each line back to his rule and space.

110. LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED

Let fair or foul my mistress be, Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, The posture her's, I'm pleased with it; Or let her tongue be still, or stir Graceful is every thing from her; Or let her grant, or else deny, My love will fit each history.

111. TO DIANEME

Give me one kiss, And no more: If so be, this Makes you poor To enrich you, I'll restore For that one, two- Thousand score.

112. UPON HER EYES

Clear are her eyes, Like purest skies; Discovering from thence A baby there That turns each sphere, Like an Intelligence.

113. UPON HER FEET

Her pretty feet Like snails did creep A little out, and then, As if they played at Bo-peep, Did soon draw in again.

114. UPON A DELAYING LADY

Come, come away Or let me go; Must I here stay Because you're slow, And will continue so; --Troth, lady, no.

I scorn to be A slave to state; And since I'm free, I will not wait, Henceforth at such a rate, For needy fate.

If you desire My spark should glow, The peeping fire You must blow; Or I shall quickly grow To frost, or snow.

115. THE CRUEL MAID

--AND, cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love, and me, I'll trouble you no more, but go My way, where you shall never know What is become of me; there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever;--yet Ere I go hence, know this from me, What will in time your fortune be; This to your coyness I will tell; And having spoke it once, Farewell. --The lily will not long endure, Nor the snow continue pure; The rose, the violet, one day See both these lady-flowers decay; And you must fade as well as they. And it may chance that love may turn, And, like to mine, make your heart burn And weep to see't; yet this thing do, That my last vow commends to you; When you shall see that I am dead, For pity let a tear be shed; And, with your mantle o'er me cast, Give my cold lips a kiss at last; If twice you kiss, you need not fear That I shall stir or live more here. Next hollow out a tomb to cover Me, me, the most despised lover; And write thereon, THIS, READER, KNOW; LOVE KILL'D THIS MAN. No more, but so.

116. TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING

You say I love not, 'cause I do not play Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. You blame me, too, because I can't devise Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; By Love's religion, I must here confess it, The most I love, when I the least express it. Shall griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found To give, if any, yet but little sound. Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know, That chiding streams betray small depth below. So when love speechless is, she doth express A depth in love, and that depth bottomless. Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such, Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much.

117. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND

My faithful friend, if you can see The fruit to grow up, or the tree; If you can see the colour come Into the blushing pear or plum; If you can see the water grow To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; If you can see that drop of rain Lost in the wild sea once again; If you can see how dreams do creep Into the brain by easy sleep:-- --Then there is hope that you may see Her love me once, who now hates me.

118. THE BUBBLE: A SONG