fnuit heaven's air in this huge ronduref hems.
O let me, true in loye, but trulj write,
And then belieye me, my love is as fSur
As any mother's child, though not so bright
Ab those gold candles fix'd in heayen's air :t
Let them say more that like of hearsay weD ;
I will not praise, that purpose not to selL
Hy gJiflB shall not persuade me I am old.
So long as ^outh and thou are of one date ;
But wnen in thee time's furrows I behold.
Then look I death my days should expiate.§
For all that beauty that doth ooyer thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart.
Which in thy breast doth Uye, as thine in me ;
How can I then be elder than thou art ?
O therefore, loye, be of thyself so wary.
As I, not for myself, but for thee will ;
Beannff thy heart, which 1 will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring; ilL
Presume not on thy heart when mme is slain ;
^Phou gay'st me thine, not to give back again.
As an unperfeot actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put beside his part ;
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage.
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own neart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of loye's rite.
And in mine own loye's strength seem to decay,
(yer-charged with burthen of mine own loye's might.
O let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers tf my spediking breast
Who plead for loye, and look for recompense.
More than that tonsue that more hath more ezpreas'd.
O learn to read what silent loye hath writ :
To hear with eyes belongs to loye's fine wit.
Mine eye hath ph^d the painter, and hath steel'dll
Thy b^uty's form in table of my heart ;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held.
And perspective it is best painter's art.
* A onion. f Roimd. t That is, the stan.
I /. e. fill up the measure of. | Engraved.
For through the painter must you see his skill.
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
miat hath his windows glazed with tmne eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes frar eyes have done ;
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
DeUghts to peep, to ^ize therein on thee ;
Ym eyes this cunning want to grace their art.
They draw but what they see, know not the heart
Let those who are in favour with their stars,
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Wmlst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
TJnlook'a-for joy in that I honour most
Great princes^ favourites their fair leaveii*^ spread.
But as the marigold at the sun's eye ;
And in themselves their pride lies buried.
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painM warrior famoused for fight^
After a thousand victories once foil'o^
Ib from the book of honour razed quite.
And all the rest forgot for which he toird :
Then happy I, that love and am beloved.
Where I may not remove, nor be removed.
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit^
To thee I send this written embassage.
To witnessf dutv, not to show my wit
Duty so great, wmch wit so poor as mine
May make seem hue, in wanting words to show it ;
Bu£ that I hope some good conceit of thine
In thy soul's thought all n^ed, will bestow it :
Till whatsoever star that guides mf moving,
Points on me graciously with fair asp^t^
And puts apparel on my tatter'd lovmg.
To show me worthy of thy sweet respect :
Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee,
Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired ;
But then begins a journey in my head.
To work my mind when body's work 's expired
* Hie fooMt of hope. t Give eyidenoe of.
For then my thoughts (from £ur where I abide)*
Intend* a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping emends open wide,
Looking on oarkness which the blind do see :
Save that my soul's imaginary sisht
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung m ghastly ni^t,
Makes olack mght beauteous^ and her old face new.
Lo thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind.
For thee, and for myself no quiet find.
How can I then return in happy pUdit^
That am debarr'd the benefit or rest ?
When day's oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night and ni^ht by day oppressed ?
And each, though enemies to either's reign.
Bo in oonsent snake hands to torture me.
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther ofi* from thee.
I tell the Bay, to please him, thou art briffht.
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the 1
So flatter I the swart-complexion'd Night ;
When sparkling stars twiref not, thou gild'st the even.
But Ihiy doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And Night doth nightly make griefs length seem stronger.
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state.
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look ui)on myself, and curse my fate.
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Besiring this man's art, and that man's scope.
With what I most enjoy contented least ;
Yet in these thought^ myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee,— and then my stete
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's rate ;
For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings.
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
When to the sessions of sweet silent tbou^t
I summon up remembrance of things nest,
I siffh the lack of many a thing I sought.
Ana with old woes new wail my dear time's waste :
* Set out upon. f Twinkle, peep out.
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless* night.
And weep afiresh love's long-since-cancell'd woe.
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight, t
Then can I grieve at grievances fore-gone.
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new nay J as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend.
All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
^ly bosom is endeared with all hearts.
Which I by lacking have supposed dead;
And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,
And all those friends which I thought buned.
How many a holy and obsequious § tear
Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye,
As interest of the dead, which now appear
But things removed, that hidden in thee he !
Thou art the grave where buried love doth live.
Hung with the trophies of my lovers || g;one,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give ;
That due of many now is thine alone :
Their images I loved I view in thee.
And thou (all they) hast all the all of me.
If thou survive my well-contented day.
When that churl I)eath my bones with dust shall cover.
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover.
Compare them with the bettering of the time ;
And though they be out-stripp'd oy every pen,
EeserveT them for my love, not for their rhyme.
Exceeded by the height of happier men.
O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought !
Had my friend^ 8 muse grown witk this growing age,
A dearer birth them tMs his love had brought.
To march in ranks of better equipage :
But since he died, and poets better prove.
Theirs for their style Pll read, his for his love
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green.
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alcnymy ;
t Cost many a past sigh (still rustically called aighth). Sighing was for-
merly deemed prejadicial to the health.
t Pay over again. § Funereal.
n Lovers, in all these instances, means simply Mends beloved.
% I. e, preserve.
VOL. V. 2 H
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,*
And from the forlorn world his Tisage hide,
Steal^^g unseen to west with this disgrace :
Even BO mjr sun one early mom did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow ;
But out ! alack ! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud t hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth ;
Suns of the world may stain, 1: when heaven's sun staineth.
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day.
And make me travel forth without my doak.
To let base clouds overtake me in my way.
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke ?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break.
To dry the ram on my storm-beaten face.
For no man well of such a salve can speaL
That heals the wound, and cures not the cQsgraoe :
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss :
The otfender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross.
Ah ! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds.
And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done :
Eoses have thorns, and silver fountams mud ;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun.
And loathsome canker Uves in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authdrizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corruptmg, ssklving thy amiss,§
Excusing thy sins more than thjK sins are: i|
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense
(Thy adverse party is thy advocate).
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence :%
Such civil war is in my love and hate,
That I an accessary needs must be
To that sweet thief, which sourly robs firom me.
Let me confess that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
* Rack is the fleeting motion of the clouds.
t /. e. the clouds of this region. t Used as a nei^er Ytxh.
I /. e. making the excuse more than proportioned to the offence.
1i /. e. I, thy opponent in the case, extenuate thy Cault with the aid uf
i«y sense. — my reasoning.
In our two loves Itiere is but one respect,
Thouffh in our lives a s^Mirable spite,*
Whicn though it alter not love's sole eflisot,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours firtnn love's delight.
I may not evenuOTe aoknowledse thee,
Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame ;
Nor thou with public kindness honour me.
Unless thou take that honour from thy name :
But do not so ; I love thee in such sort,
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active diild do deeds of youth^
So I, made lame by fortune's dearestf spite.
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth ;
For whether beauty, birth^ or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
EntitledX in thy parts do crowned sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store :
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised.
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,
That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
And by a part of all thy gl(»ry liva
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee;
This wish I have ; then ten times happy me !
How can my muse want subject to invent.
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument,$ too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse P
Oh, give thyself the thai^ if aught in me
Worthy perusal, stand against tl^ sight,
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee.
When thou thyself dost give invention light r
Be thou the tenth muse, ten times more m worth
Than those old Nine, which rh;piers invocate ;
And he that calls on thee, let mm bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me ?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring ?
And what is't but mine own. when I praise thee P
Even for this let us divided live,
And our dear bve lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee, which thou deserv'st alone.
* Separable^ for aepartding, f Dearest is mo9t operative.
t Ennobled. ^ Subject.
Digitized by VjOOQ IC
(X absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove.
Were it not thy sore leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love
(Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive),*
And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
Ey praising him here, who doth hence remain.
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before ?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call ;
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee, forf my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thie^
Althougn thou steal thee all my povertv ;
And yet love knows, it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, m whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites ; yet we must not be foes.
Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
When I am sometime absent from thy heart.
Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
For still temptation follows where thou art.
Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assail'd
And when a woman wooes, what woman's son ;
Will sourly leave her till she have prevailed.
Ah me ! but yet thou miehtst, my sweet, forbear.
And chide thy beaut^r ana thy straying youth.
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forqed to break a twofold truth ;
Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee.
Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.
That thou hast her, it is not all my met
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly ;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving oflTenders, thus I will excuse ye .—
Thou dost love her, because thou knoVst I love her ;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse}; me,
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
* Doth, instead of (fo. t (That). t Deoeive.
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain *
And losing her my friend hath found that loss ;
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross :
But here's the joy ; my friend and I are one ;
Sweet flattery !— -then she loves but me alone.
When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespeoted ;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright.
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer hght.
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so ?
How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
"When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay ?
AH days are nights to see, till I see thee.
And nights, bright days, when dreams do show thee me.t
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought.
Injurious distance should not stop my way ;
For then, despite of space, I would be brought
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then, although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee.
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land.
As soon Bs think the place where he would be.
But ah ! thought kills me, that I am not thouglit,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone.
But that, so much of earth and water wrought,^
I must attend time's leisure with my moan ;
Receiving nought bv elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of cither's woe.
The other two, slight air and purging fire.
Are both with thee, wherever I abide ;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
For when these quicker elements are gone
In tender embassy of love to thee.
My life being made of four, with two alone,§
Sinks down to death, oppress'd with melancholy ;
^ I. e. my mistress gains by my loss. t /. e, to me.
t I- e. bcang so compounded of these two eleiknents.
^ Being made up of the four elements, when two of these are absent—
Until life's composition be reoured
^ those swifb meesengers retum'd firom thee,
Who even but now oome bad^ again, assured
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me :
This told, I joy ; but then no longer glad,
I send them back again, and straight grow sad.
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal ynr.
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye m;^ heart thy picture's sight would bar.
My heart mine eye the fireedom of t^t right.
My heart doth plead, that thou in him doit lie
(A closet never pierced with crystal eyes).
But the defendaiit doth that plea deny,
And says in him th^ fair appearance ues.
To 'cide* this title is impannelled
A questt of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye's moiety4! and the dear heart's part :
As thus ; mine e^re^s due is thy outward nart.
And my heart's right thy inward love of heart
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other :
When that mine e^e is famish'd for a look.
Or heart in love witn sighs himself doth smother.
With my love's picture, then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart :
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part :
So, either by thy picture or my love.
Thyself away art present stiU with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move.
And I am still with them and they with thee ;
Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to neart's and eye's delight
How careful was I, when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust.
That, to mv use. it might unused stay
From hanas of falsehood, in sure wards of trust !
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are.
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief.
Thou, b€st of dearest, and mine only care.
Art left the prey of every vulgar thiet
* To decide. t An inquest or jury.
X Moiety, in ancient langrnage, sigrnifles any portion of a thing, Uiouglk
the whole may not have been equally divided.
Thee have 1 not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle 'closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
And even thence thou wilt be stolen I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
A^nst that time, if ever that time come,
When I shall see thee ftrown on my defects,
Whenas* thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Call'd to that audit by advised respects,
Against that time, when thou shalt strangely pass.
And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,
When love, converted ftrom the thing it was,
Shall reasons find of settled gravity,!
Against that time do I ensconce me heret
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand against myself uprear,
Toguard the lawful reasons on thy part :
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws.
Since, why to love, I can allege no cause.
How heavy do I journey on the way.
When what I seek,— my weary travel's end,—
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
** Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend ;**
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed, being made from thee :
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide.
Which heavily he answers with a groan.
More sharp to me than spurring to his side ;
For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed :
From where thou art why should I haste me thence ?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find.
When swift extremity § can seem but slow?
Then should 1 spur, though mounted on the wind ;
In winged speed no motion shall I know :
* When. t Ceremonious coldness.
t Fortify. I /. e. theextremest speed.
Then oon no horse with my desire keep pace ;
Therefore desire, of perfect love being made.
Shall neigh (no dull flesh) in his fiery race ;
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade ;
Since from thee going he went wilfm slow,
Towards thee Vu. run, and give him leave to go.
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The whicn he will not every hour survey,
For* blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feastsf so solemn and so rare.
Since seldom coming, in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.};
So is the time that keeps you, as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide.
To mn^e some special instant special-blest.
By new unfolding his imprison d pride.
Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives saape.
Being had, to triumph, being lack'd, to hope.
What is your substance, whereof are you made.
That milUons of strange shadows on you tend ?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade.
And jrou, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit §
Is poorly imitated after you ;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set
And you in Grecian tires || are painted new :
Sp^ of the spring, and foizoni of the year ;
The one doth shadow of your beauty show.
The othQjr as your bounty doth appear.
And you in everv blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part.
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem.
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give !
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it Uve.
The canker-blooms** have full as deep a dye,
As the perfumed tincture of the roses.
Hang on such thorns, and ^lay as wantonly
When summ^s breath their masked buds discloses :
* (Pear of).
t He means the four festivals'of the year.
t The chiefjewela in the necklace. ( Pcnrtrait.
4t.tire. f /. e. the plentiful season, the antomn.
'anker-rose, or dog-rose.
But, for* their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade ;
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made :
And so of you, beauteous and loveljr youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments '
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme:
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmeard with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry.
Nor Mars's sword nor war's quick fire shall bum
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmitv
Shall you pace forth ; your praise shall still find room.
Even m the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So till the judgment that yourself arise.
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
Sweet love, renew thy force ; be it not said.
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Wnich but to-day by feeding is allay'd^
To-morrow sharpened in his former nught :
So, love, be thou ; although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted-new
Come daily to the banks, that, when the^ see
Eetum of love, more blest may be the view :
Or call it winter, which being full of care.
Makes summer's welcome thnce more wish'd, more rare.
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire ?
I nave no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour.
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you.