TO THE Right Honourable HENRY WRIOTHESLY, EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD. I Right Honourable, KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for chusing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden, only if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content, which I wish may always answer your own wish, and the world's hopeful expectation. Your honour's in all duty, WILL. SHAKESPEARE. VENUS AND ADONIS. EVEN as the sun, with purple-coloured face, Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn, Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase: Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn. Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him, And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him. Thrice fairer than myself! (thus she began) The fields sweet flower! sweet above compare! Stain to all nymphs! more lovely than a man! More white and red than doves or roses are! Nature that made thee, with herself at strife, And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety, A summer's day will seem an hour but short, With this she seizeth on his sweating palm, And trembling in her passion calls it balm; She red and hot, as coals of glowing fire, The studded bridle, on a ragged bough Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust, So soon was she along, as he was down, And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken, He burns with bashful shame; she, with her tears, Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, Even so she kiss'd his brow, his cheek, his chin, Forc'd to consent, but never to obey, |