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That she might think me fome untutor'd youth,
Unskilful in the woild's false forgeries.
Thus vainly thinking, that she thinks me young,
Altho' I know my years be past. the best;
I smiling, credit her false spea-king tongue,
Out-facing faults in love, with love's ill rest.
But wherefore fays my love, that she is young?
A-nd wherefore fay not I, that I am old?

0 love's best habit is a smoothing tongue,
And age (in love) loves not to have years told.

Therefore I'll lye with love, and love with me,
Since that our faults in love thus fmothet'd be.

A Temptation*

Two loves I-have, of comfort and despair,
That like two spirits do suggest me still-:
My better angel is a man (right fair)
My worser spirit a woman - (colour'd ill*)
To win me soon to hell, my semale evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my faint to be a devil,
"Wooing his purity with her fair pride.
And whether that my angel be turn'd siend,
Suspect I may, -yet not directly tell;
For being both to me, both to each friend,

1 guess one angel in another's hell.

The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt.
Till my bad angel sire my good one out-

Fast and Loose.

Did not the heavenly rhetorick of thine eye* 'Gainst whom the vvoild could not hold argument,

Persuade my'heart to this false perjury,
Vows tor thee broke, deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore: but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love,
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is;
Then thou, fair sun, that on this earth doth shine,
Exhale this vapeur vow, in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine.
If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
To break an oath, to win a paradise.?

True Content.

So is it not with me, as with that muse,
Slirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,
And every fair with his fair -doth rehearse:
Making.a compliment of proud compare
"With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems;
"With April's sirst-born flowers, and all things rare,
That heaven's air, in this huge rondure hems.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, tho' not fo bright,
As those gold candles six'd in heaven's air.
Let them fay more, that like of hearfay well 5
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.

A Bashful Lever.

As an unperfect actor on the stage,

Who with his sear is put besides his part;

Or fome sierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength abundant weakens his own heart:
So I, for sear of trust, forgot to fay
The persect ceremony of love's right,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharg'd with burden of mine own love's might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence,
And dumb prefagers of my speaking breast;
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more exprest.

O learn to read what silent love hath writ!

To hear with eyes belongs to love's sine wit.

Strong -Conceit.

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou art of one date;
But when in tbee time's forrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty, that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Whish in thy breast doth live, as thine-iu me,
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O therefore, love! be of thyself fo wary,
As I not for myself, but for thee, will,
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep fo chary,
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.

Presume not on thy heart, when mine is flain;

Thou gav'st me thine, not to give back again.

A Sweet Provocation.

Sweet Cythereaj sitting by a brook,

With young Adonis, lovely fresh aad greens.

Did court the lad with many a lovely look,

Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.

She told him stories, to delight his ears;

She show'd him favours, to allure his eye;

To win bis heart, she touch't him here and there y

Touches fo foft, still conquer chastity-.

But whether unripe years did want conceit,

Or he refus'd to take her sigur'd proffer,

The tender nibbler wou'd not touch the bait,.

But smile and jest at every gentle offer.

Then sell she on her back, fair queen, and toward,
He rose and ran aw.iy; ah! fool too froward*

A Constant Vow.
Is love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
G! never faith cou'd hold, is not to beauty vow'd:
Tho' to myself forsworn, to thee 111 constant prove.
Thole thoughts tome like oaks, to thee like osiers bo w'd.
Study his byas leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,
Where al I those pleasures live, that art can comprehend.
Is knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall sussice.
Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee com-
mend!

All ignorant that foul, that sees thee without wonder, Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire: Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy- voice his

dreadful thunder, Which (not to anger bent) is rnusick and sweet sire.

Celestial as thou art, O ! do not love that wrong!

To sing heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue.

The Exchange.

A woman's face, with nature's own hand painted,. Hast thou the master, mistress of my passion;

A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted

With shifting change, as is false women's fashion.

An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling r

Gilding the object: whereupon it gazethv

A man in bus all hue in his controuling,

Which steals metis eyes, and womens fouls arrrazeth:

And for a woman wert thou sirst created.

Till nature, as she wrought thee, sell £ doating,

And by addition me of thee deseated;

By adding one thing, to my purpose nothing.

But since she prick'd thee out sor womens pleasure, Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure.

A Difconsolation.

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,-
Tha dear feposc for limbs with travel tired,
But then begins a journey in my. head,
To work my mind, when borly's work's expired.
For then my thoughts (far from where I abide)
Intend a zealous pilgrimage. to thee,
And keep my -drooping eye-lids open wid«,
Looking on darkness, which the blind do see.
Save that my foul's imaginary sight
Presents their shadow to my sightless view
Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night)
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
Lo! thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself Ho quiet sind.

How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debar'd the benesit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eas'd by night,
But day by night, and night by day oppeesti .

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