THE UNDERTAKING. I HAVE done one braver thing It were but madness now to impart When he, which can have learn'd the art So, if I now should utter this, Such stuff to work upon, there is— But he who loveliness within Hath found, all outward loathes, If, as I have, you also do Virtue in woman see, And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She; 1. 18. So 1635; 1633, Virtue attired in woman see IO 20 And if this love, though placed so, Then you have done a braver thing THE SUN RISING. Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school-boys and sour prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices; Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, time. L 3. 1669. look on us 1. 6. 1669, or sour Thy beams so reverend, and strong Why shouldst thou think? I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink, Look, and to-morrow late tell me, She's all states, and all princes I; Princes do but play us; compared to this, 1. 11. 1635, Thy beams so reverend, and strong Dost thou not think I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink, 30 THE INDIFFERENT. I CAN love both fair and brown; Her whom abundance melts, and her whom want betrays; Her who loves loneness best, and her who masks and plays; Her whom the country form'd, and whom the town; Her who believes, and her who tries; Her who still weeps with spongy eyes, And her who is dry cork, and never cries. I can love her, and her, and you, and you; Will no other vice content you? ΙΟ Will it not serve your turn to do as did your mothers? Or have you all old vices spent and now would find out others? Or doth a fear that men are true torment you? O we are not, be not you so; Let me and do you-twenty know; Rob me, but bind me not, and let me go. Grow your fix'd subject, because you are true? 1. 3. 1669, Her who loves lovers best, and her who sports and plays 1. 12. 1669, vices worn 1. 17. So 1635; 1633 travaile Venus heard me sigh this song; And by love's sweetest part, variety, she swore, 20 She heard not this till now; it should be so no more. Which think to stablish dangerous constancy. LOVE'S USURY. FOR every hour that thou wilt spare me now, Usurious god of love, twenty to thee, When with my brown my grey hairs equal be. 1. 6. So 1633, 1669; 1635, match, plot, have, forget 1. 7. 1669, relique |