III TAKING my pen, with words to cast my woe, The reck'nings rise to millions of despairs. And thus mine eyes a debtor to thine eye, And I a bankrupt, quite undone by thee. IV BRIGHT star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit Which there in order take their several places ; In whose dear bosom, sweet delicious love Lays down his quiver which he once did bear, Since he that blessed paradise did prove, And leaves his mother's lap to sport him there. I hold that vile which vulgar wit affords; Let what I praise be still made good by you; most worthy whilst I am most true! Be you V NOTHING but "No!" and "I!" and "I!" and "No!" "How falls it out so strangely?" you reply. I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answered so, I "No!" say "I love!" You slightly answer "I!” I say "You love!" You pule me out a say "I die!" You echo me with “I!” I "Save me ”ן I cry; you sigh me out a "No!" Must woe and I have naught but "No!" and "I!"? No "I!" am I, if I no more can have. Answer no more; with silence make reply, Let "No!" and "I!" with I and you be so, Then answer "No!" and "I!" and "I!" and "No!" * The "I" of course equals "aye." VI How many paltry, foolish, painted things, Ere they be well wrapped in their winding sheet! When nothing else remaineth of these days, Virgins and matrons reading these my rhymes, Shall be so much delighted with thy story, That they shall grieve they lived not in these times, To have seen thee, their sex's only glory. So shalt thou fly above the vulgar throng, VII LOVE, in a humour, played the prodigal, No other drink would serve this glutton's turn, But precious tears distilling from mine eyne, Which with my sighs this epicure doth burn, Quaffing carouses in this costly wine; Where, in his cups, o'ercome with foul excess, Straightways he plays a swaggering ruffian's part, And at the banquet in his drunkenness, Slew his dear friend, my kind and truest heart. A gentle warning, friends, thus may you see, What 'tis to keep a drunkard company! |